


Outlander

by Suituuup



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Elf/Human Relationship(s), F/F, Lord of the Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 62,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suituuup/pseuds/Suituuup
Summary: Beca doesn't care much about college. She's moving to LA next year, only the universe has other plans for her.akaBeca falls into Middle Earth, Chloe is an elf. Bechloe x Lord of the Rings





	1. Middle Earth you said?

**Author's Note:**

> I've never really written fantasy before so I hope it doesn't suck too much!
> 
> The original characters from Lord of the Rings look like the actors portraying them in the movie, in case you were wondering! A reminder: Legolas is played by Orlando Bloom, Aragorn by Viggo Mortensen and Gandalf by Ian McKellen. Those are the main three present in the story!

Beca Mitchell believed she led a fairly simple life. College life was... uneventful, boring even.

Maybe that had to do with the fact that she was slightly anti-social and would rather spend her evenings mixing in her dorm than getting plastered at frat parties like most people her age. 

Her dad had insisted she needed to try college before she could set off to LA, so that was what she was doing. She had no interest whatsoever in making friends here, or taking part in a club.

She had her laptop and Jesse.

Jesse was unexpected. He worked with her at the radio station and somehow managed to worm his way past the walls she had spent years building around herself ever since her parents' divorce. She blamed it on his dorky humor, puppy dog eyes and the fact that he was a really nice guy.

Eventually, they became friends, and Beca enjoyed his company, even if she would never admit it out loud.

Beca glanced down at her watch. The big arrow hadn't moved much since she last looked at it. With a sigh, she tried to focus back on what the teacher was on about.

Philosophy sucked. She could think of a hundred better ways to spend her Friday morning than hearing about Plato and his theories of the Form.

Letting out a resigned sigh, Beca let her mind wander to her latest mix and to the list of songs she could possibly mash-up with _ Bulletproof _ .

When the class eventually ended, Beca gathered her things and stuffed them into her backpack.

Walking out to the quad, she unceremoniously dropped by Jesse's side on the grass once she had spotted him, already unpacking her computer as Jesse looked up from his.

“What are you watching?” She asked absentmindedly, tapping her computer to life.

“Lord of the Rings.”

Beca grimaced as she placed her headphones around her neck. Movies were not her thing, while Jesse was obsessed with them. “Isn't it the third time since school started?”

Jesse shrugged, hitting the space bar to pause the film to glance at her. “So? It's the best trilogy ever made. I'll make you watch it one day, you know.”

“Watch a bunch of dudes touring the country to destroy a ring? And that for more than nine hours, because I know you would make me watch the extended version?” Beca's nose wrinkled in distaste. “No thanks.”

Jesse was looking at her as though she had kicked his puppy. “It's so much more than that! It's a quest! A quest against all Evil.”

Beca rolled her eyes as she opened her mixing program, deadpanning. “Now I _ really _ want to watch it.”

They both minded their own business in silence for the next couple hours, until the temperatures got to chilly for them to remain outside. Jesse offered they go to their usual diner to get some food.

They walked to his old beat-up truck and got in, Beca already fiddling with the radio when Jesse started the engine, sitting back comfortably once she had found something suitable to listen to.

“Any plans for break?” Jesse asked as he pulled the car into drive. Beca propped her feet over the board.

She grunted. “Nothing exciting, except suffer through a dinner with my dad and the step-monster.”

“Would you stop changing the song every second?” Jesse asked after a while, when Beca switched to another station.

“Not my fault these are boring.” Beca grumbled with an eye-roll. “Hopefully the DJ at the club next Saturday has better taste than these radio dudes.”

Jesse chuckled as he stirred onto the main street. “Well, not everyone gets music like you do.”

“Stop complimenting me, it's weird. I feel like you're trying to get into my pants.”

Jesse made a face as Beca laughed. She had made it clear during the first week at the station that she wasn't interested in him. She just loved pushing his buttons.

“Shut up.”

“How is it going with that girl anyway? What was her name again? Audrey?”

Jesse took his eyes off the road for a second to glare at her. “It's _Aubrey_.”

Beca hummed. “Close enough. What do you see in her, anyway? That girl looks like she has a stick up her ass.”

“Well, _ you _ are a pain in _ my _ass.”

Beca shoved his shoulder, but he barely moved.

“Wow, you really do have spagetti arms.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

Jesse only snickered and reached out to ruffle her hair. “Love you, too, Becs.”

The smile tugging at her lips was about to crack her façade, and as Beca turned her head, she didn't have time to gasp.

What happened next was a blur. The loud screech of a vehicle trying to brake made Beca's ears whistle and she suddenly felt dizzy as the truck swerved sharply, before something big and heavy slammed into its side.

She felt a sharp and blunt pain to her head and thought she heard Jesse call her name before light gave in to darkness.

/

Beca blinked.

Her head hurt so much, it felt as if someone, or something, was holding it in a deadly grip. Or maybe she was just experiencing the worst hangover of her life, yet. Moving her eyes was too painful, so she stopped doing so after a few seconds and attempted to focus on what was going on above her head.

She was lying on her back, on something soft. Too soft to be concrete, not soft enough to be a mattress. The only thing she could see above her were trees, and blue skies peaking from between the green leaves. The golden glow of the light told her it was nearing sunset.

Everything was quiet. There were no car noises, or street chatter, or any familiar sound that Beca associates with the city.

Slowly, her brain switched back into gear. She remembered being in the car with Jesse, and the bigger truck hitting its side.

Beca groaned.

Was she dead? Was that it? Had she been sent to heaven? Was this afterlife?

That last thought managed to get her to try to sit up and get a better look at her surroundings. Whimpering, she took a deep breath and lifted her bust, hand bracing her side when a sharp pain lit it on fire.

“Fuck.”

Her head was swimming dangerously, and her vision had gotten blurry from the switch in position. She blinked again, repeatedly, to be able to make out anything more than shapes. As her surroundings came into focus, Beca realized she was indeed in the middle of nowhere.

Stranded. Lost. Injured.

She patted her thighs, relieved when her fingers ran over the square in her pocket.

Not without a struggle, she managed to dig her phone out, and, with bathed breathing, pushed the home button. Her screen lit up, and Beca unlocked it, only to find that she had no service.

“Of course,” She mumbled with a humorless laugh, slipping it in the pocket of her leather jacket. She tried not to think too much about the fact that this was how horror movie victims usually ended up being killed.

Stranded somewhere, with no way of calling for help.

As the sun steadily went down, Beca felt the cold seep past her clothes and invade her limbs. She gave in to a shudder and wrapped her arms around her body.

It this was afterlife, it sucked big time.

Beca startled when she heard a rustle. She straightened, trying to figure out where it was coming from. It was either an animal making its way through the fallen leaves, or the footsteps of her murderer.

Or, it could be someone who would be able to help her. Beca decided to take that chance.

“Help! Is somebody out there?” she shouted, trying to see anything in the semi-darkness.

Maybe it was just a prank. A really good prank, granted. Jesse must have put a lot of thought into it.

“Jesse, this is not fun anymore! I'm cold and hurt!”

She wanted to add 'scared', but she wasn't a pussy.

Beca paused when the noises got louder; grunts and heavy breathing. Her first thought was a bear.

She never thought she would die from being mauled by a bear. Bears were seldom observed in Georgia. Besides, Beca was never one for the outdoors, so her chances of an encounter with a bear were pretty thin.

Maybe this wasn't Georgia at all. But she definitely thought it was a bear.

A speaking bear.

Hold on, _ what?  
_

Ears straining, Beca could make out some sort of language. It was rough, and not anything like she had ever heard before. the voices got nearer and nearer, the outlines of two figures coming into focus.

Big, bulky, non-human figures.

Forget about not feeling scared, Beca was about to shit her pants.

As they continued their approach, her guts told her she should hide.

Being hurt, she wasn't able to move as smoothly as she thought she would. The moment she tried to crawl away, the creatures stopped talking. She froze, praying under her breath that they would just walk away.

But they didn't. Instead they got closer, the glow of the torch they were holding illuminating their faces.

Beca couldn't contain the noise that flew from her lips. The first word that came to her mind to describe those creatures was beasts.

Ugly, mean-looking beasts.

They were of a grey-ish color, and severely beaten up. One of them was missing an eye, while the other looked as though he had had his face smashed between two vehicles.

Beca was pretty certain her heart flat-lined as fear sliced through her. She looked at them with wide-eyes, and when she gave a poor attempt of bolting, one of them sprang forward, grabbing her ankle to drag her over.

“No!” she squealed, trying to grasp anything that could make the task more difficult for the creature to get her. Her hands latched onto fistfuls of dead leaves, nails scratching at the dirt, but it was useless, they were definitely stronger than her.

A sudden whistling sound made them all freeze. The two creatures let out grunts, the one holding onto Beca's leg letting go before they ran away, disappearing between the trees.

Panting, she turned onto her back and sat up, hastily looking over her shoulder and making sure they were really gone. Her relief was short-lived when she heard other sounds.

Horse hooves.

Looking up, she found three people on horseback staring right down at her. There was a fourth horse, but its rider was nowhere in sight.

Beca startled yet again when someone landed on their feet just beside her. A man, presumably the fourth companion. He was tall, lean, and his blond, almost white hair reached his lower back.

That was all Beca could make out from the low lighting provided by the lamps held by the other riders.

The man started speaking a different language. It sounded like Eastern European, but what did she know, she had barely passed level 2 German. His words were directed to her and he was staring at her, as though expecting her to answer.

When she didn't, he repeated the same thing, in a much colder, harsher tone which translated his impatience.

Beca let out a nervous laugh.

“Okay, you can all stop with the role-playing thing. This is all very convincing and I applaud you for that, but fantasy settings are not my cup of tea. I'd rather be in my bed right now, I have this killer headache, and I think I need go to the hosp-”

Before she could finish her sentence, an arrow was aimed at her face. Beca instantly froze and swallowed, heart thumping madly in her ears.

Well, at least it was still beating.

“Are you a spy?”

Beca paused, eyebrows hiked up to her hairline. “You speak English?”

“_ Eeng-glish _ ? What is that?”

Beca frowned. “English, the language we're speaking right now.”

She didn't know why her priorities were set on this particular matter, especially when an arrow could end her life in the twitch of his finger.

“Is Eeng-glish another name for Westron?” He asked, then shook his head. “You're avoiding my question. Are you an orc spy?”

A spy? Orc?

Even though she had no idea what that meant, Beca was pretty sure the safest answer to that question was no. Being accused of being a spy was never the promise for a good outcome.

“What? _ No. _ I'm not a spy.”

“What is your business here, then?” he asked, the sneer in his expression still present. Beca opened her mouth without knowing what she could say. The bow was once again aimed at her. “Speak, now.”

“I, uh, I was hoping you could tell me. I seem to be lost. But I'm not armed, I can show you.”

She slowly stood up, hands lifted up by her head to show that she, in fact, didn't carry any weapon. The second she applied weight to her ankle, however, a bright jolt of pain shot up her leg. She hissed and bounced on her good foot as she cursed.

“Ow! Fucking hell! Motherfucker, that _ hurts _!”

The man was staring at her, a frown deeply etched in his features. “What a strange language.”

Beca bit on her lip, waiting for the pain to pass as she breathed heavily through her nose.

“See? There's no way I could fight you. My ankle is sprained, if not broken, and I'm pretty sure I have a cracked rib. Not to mention that my head is literally about to explode.” Beca let out a frustrated sigh. The guy now seemed too confused to be intimidating. “Now, can you point me into the direction of Barden?”

“Barden? I do not know of this place. We make for the land of Rivendell.”

Rivendell? Beca really did need to look at a map of Georgia.

An exasperated sigh flew through Beca's lips. “Okay, what about Atlanta?”

The man's confusion only grew. “Atlanta? There's no such place in Middle-Earth.”

Middle-_ what? _

Beca bit back a laugh. So it _ was _ a prank. And it had stopped being funny a long time ago.

“Listen, buddy, I know I'm not the smartest person on the block, but I've looked at world maps before, and there's no such thing as Middle-Earth, or whatever you call it, on our planet. So stop fucking with me.” She looked around, squinting in the dark. “Is this a hidden camera thing? How much did Jesse pay you to do this?”

As an afterthought, Beca knew she probably shouldn't keep up that level of sass with a guy armed with a bow. If the arrows aimed at the beasts moments before were any indication, he looked like he knew how to use it.

“What is your business here?” He repeated with a hard look that made an unpleasant shiver run down Beca's spine.

“Please don't kill me,” Beca whispered, voice seemingly lost somewhere inside her. Prank or not, she wasn't risking it. Jesse could laugh at her later for being a pussy, she didn't care anymore. “I-I'm only eighteen, I have my whole life ahead of me. I wanna go to LA and make music and my best friend would be lost without me, and-”

Words flew from her mouth before she could stop them, and to her surprise and overwhelming relief, the bow was lowered, not directly pointing its arrow at her chest anymore.

He also looked like he had no idea what she was talking about. Beca's shoulders slumped as another sigh, a defeated one this time around, escaped her mouth.

“Look, we will not harm you if you pose us no threat.” He said in a surprisingly calm tone.

The reality of the situation dawned upon her. This wasn't a joke. She was stuck in a place she didn't know; in a different _world_.

“I have no idea where I am.”

Beca hated the way her voice cracked, hated how it showed that her shield was being splinted open by her fears.

“Legolas,” she heard from farther back, and lifted her head to see one of the other horses approaching. On it sat a woman. Beca could vaguely make out her features. She had curly, red hair that fell upon her shoulders, but the hood of the cloak she wore over her head prevented Beca to see any more.

She and the leader, presumably named Legolas, exchanged in that same language for long seconds. While Beca couldn't make out anything, she could tell the woman was pleading with her companion, whose demeanor slowly relaxed. Eventually, he tucked his arrow away and pulled his bow over his head, letting it rest sideways upon his chest.

“You can come with us to Rivendell. I am sure Lord Elrond will help you find your way home.”

_ Lord? _ Had she gone back in time?

Beca gave a faint nod. That seemed like the best alternative, in her current situation.

The leader and the redheaded woman exchanged another few words, before the woman stepped off her horse. She looked incredibly fit, and was slightly taller than Beca. She was dressed in what looked like combat pants and leather boots, the cloak fastened around her neck covering her upper body. As she lowered her hood, Beca noticed her ears were spiked, sticking out from underneath her hair.

That was all she could register before her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she slipped into unconsciousness.

/

The first thing Beca felt as she came to, was the warm light of the sun on the side of her face. And the rocking.

The rocking?

Eyes flying open, Beca jolted when she realized she was on a horse. She caught herself not to face-plant on the ground, or rather, someone steadied her before that could happen.

She noticed arms around her waist, fingers holding onto the reins, while her own hands rested on the front of the saddle. A body sat behind her, brushing against hers ever so often with the flow of the horse's movements, though Beca could tell the person it belonged to was trying to keep their distance.

Twisting her head to try and get a look over her shoulder, the pain in the back of her neck prevented her from seeing anything.

She only caught a whif of perfume. It was familiar, yet entrancing. It smelled like the lilies from her grand-parents' garden.

The leader was on the horse in front of her. His bow was still strapped to his back and his quiver full of arrows. Arrows that had been pointed at her chest just the night before.

Beca swallowed and tried to fight against the wave of panic that was steadily spreading all over her insides. There was no stopping it. It soon gripped her stomach, until the need to throw up was too violent to hold back.

“I'm – I'm going to be sick.” She stated hurriedly, hunching in over herself.

“Legolas!” The woman behind her shouted, then said something in this foreign tongue and the horse suddenly stopped. The woman stepped down and helped Beca down, who, she didn't know how, managed to keep the bile from rising to her throat until she had limped a couple yards away from the group.

She threw up in a bush, doubled over at the waist as she tried to keep her hair away from her mouth. After a minute or two, once she was sure there was nothing left in her stomach to come back up, Beca slowly rose and turned around to find four pair of concerned eyes staring back at her.

The woman with the red hair approached slowly and untucked the leather water jug strapped to her waist. Uncapping it, she then extended it to Beca. “Drink some water.”

Figuring this was the woman's water and therefore not poisoned, Beca accepted it with a small nod and drank slowly. After taking back the jug, the stranger extended something else; a leaf, resting in the palm of her hand.

Upon Beca's confused expression, she explained. “To help keep the sickness away.”

Her expression seemed so genuine that Beca took it, too.

“Tuck it between your gums and your cheek. Do not swallow it. You can spit it out after a while.”

Beca did as she was told. “Okay.”

“Lostariel,” The leader's voice captured Beca's attention as well as the woman's. He added something else, and the woman turned back to Beca.

“We need to resume our journey. Will you be okay?”

Beca took a deep breath and gathered her wits. The woman's attentiveness had managed to chase the fear gripping her stomach away.

“I think so.”

She helped Beca back in the saddle, which was no easy task given her ankle and her (ahem) lack of flexibility. Once Beca was secured on top of the horse, she swiftly climbed up behind Beca with such easiness that Beca's jaw dropped in awe.

She grasped the leather reins in one hand, her other arm loosely coming around Beca's waist to steady her in case she felt faint, Beca guessed. She clicked her tongue to make the horse move forward.

“You're safe. We should be in Rivendell before nightfall.”

The voice was so soft it could belong to an angel. Beca allowed herself to relax as the journey went on, and took a chance to observe her surroundings; it was quite a sight, even for someone who disliked the outdoors as much as she did.

She had to admit; wherever she was, in whatever world it was, it was truly breathtaking. The trees were of a different shape and the trail they were currently riding was basked in a soft and soothing golden glow. Silence surrounded them, sporadically interrupted by the song of a bird perched on a branch high up.

Perhaps she was _ indeed _ , dead, and this was heaven.

Eventually, after what felt like half a day, they crossed a large river. A man greeted them on the other side. He too had pointy ears, long black hair and serious features. He greeted the blond man in that same language Beca couldn't understand.

The man eventually glanced at her, with a hard look that made Beca want to dig herself a hole and disappear underground.

She knew she wasn't welcome here. That, even though how much she told herself that these people, or whatever race they belonged to, weren't normal, Beca knew _ she _ was the one sticking out to their eyes.

And that feeling made her toes curl in discomfort.

She wanted to go home.  



	2. Stuck in fiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the great response on this! This work should be a total of 20 chapters.

The light pouring into the room was what woke Beca up that time around. She blinked sleepily and went to stretch, but the sharp pain in her side put a stop to her movements.   


Nursing the spot with a press of her hand, Beca slowly breathed through the pain. The bed she was laying in was warm and comfy, and for a second Beca thought about going back to sleep, right before her mind slowly started to recollect the past events one by one, the puzzle pieces shifting around until it was complete.   


Middle-Earth. Middle  _ fucking _ Earth.   


Surely, it had been a dream, right?   


Glancing around her, Beca took in her surroundings. Nothing seemed familiar. The room she was in had no windows but simple pillars acting as the only separation from outside. The walls were beige and made of cold stone, yet, the sunshine basking the room in its ethereal glow.   


The last thing Beca remembered was crossing a river, but the rest was a bit of a blur. She wondered how long she had slept or what day it was.   


At least her headache was gone, but she still had no idea where she was or how to get home. She needed to get ahold of her phone to look up some answers, granted this place had cell service.   


Peeking underneath the sheets, Beca realized her T shirt, jeans and hoodies had been swapped for a cotton white gown. Her nose scrunched up and she began to get up, freezing when a tut echoed in the room. Upon twisting her head towards the source of the noise, Beca saw a woman standing in the corner, features twisted in a frown.

Beca swallowed and laid back down as the woman approached. She too was wearing a robe, but it was dark grey and made of a velvety material.   


She spoke in that same language, and Beca let out a sigh, slightly shaking her head to show her she didn't understand.   


The woman held up a finger and left the room a moment later. Beca didn't dare move, afraid of being told off once more. She realized in the meantime that she wasn't the only person in the room. A dark haired boy – human or not, she couldn't tell – was lying a few beds over, seemingly unconscious.   


A moment later, the woman with red hair strode in.   


_ Lostariel.   
_

She had swapped her riding clothes for a long, dark green velvety robe and her hair was woven in a loose braid that fell upon her shoulder. As she stepped nearer, Beca got a better look at her features. She had kind, blue eyes. The bluest Beca had ever seen, and her smile was gentle, reassuring even.   


“Good day,” she greeted, stopping by Beca's bed. “How are you feeling?”   


“I’m okay, considering.” Beca cleared her throat. “Where am I?”   


The woman pursed her lips and sat on the side of the bed, keeping her hands folded in her lap.   


“In Imladris, land of Lord Elrond.”   


Beca’s eyebrow crawled up. “ _ Lord _ Elrond? What-- what year is this?”   


“This is the year 3018 of the Third Age.”   


Beca blinked twice in slow succession. That was it. Maybe she had simply gone mad. Completely and utterly lost her mind.   


“Are you feeling ill?” The woman asked, brows knitted together as she stared at Beca with concern. Beca figured the color must have drained from her face upon being given that piece of information. “You won't faint again, will you?”   


Beca shook her head to try and organize her thoughts. They were all tangled in a giant web of nonsense and Beca could feel the pressure crawl back to her frontal lobe.   


“No, I...” She trailed off, not really knowing what to say. She started twisting the ring on her middle finger, a nervous tick she had picked up as a teenager. “When can I see your Lord?”   


The woman tilted her head to the side. “He’s not  _ my _ Lord. This is not my land. I’m only but a visitor here.”   


Beca's shoulders slumped. “Oh.”   


Surely sensing her disappointment, Lostariel hastily added, “I will inquire for you. But first, I need to check your wounds.”   


Confusion stared back at her. “My wounds?”   


She nodded and stood. “Yes, your side was heavily bruised and your ankle swollen when we found you. May I?”   


It took Beca a few seconds to realize she was referring to the sheet covering her body. Nodding, the brunette watched as she slowly pulled back the covers and inspected her leg.   


Beca was glad she had decided to shave the morning before the accident, or whatever it was that brought her to this land.   


Her ankle was of a blueish color and still visibly swollen.   


Lostariel hummed and walked to the wooden cabinet tucked in a corner. After rummaging through the drawers for a stretch, she spent a minute mixing several ingredients together in a bowl, then she strode back to the bed.   


“Are you a doctor?” Beca asked curiously as the stranger applied a sort of green paste -- most likely clay -- to her leg. The cooling effect was immediate and relieved Beca of the soreness. The redhead looked up with a frown that had Beca clarify, “A-a healer?”   


Recognition settled in her blue eyes before she focused back on her task. “Yes. It has been passed on to the females elves in my family.”   


Beca's eyebrows rose up once more. So she was an  _ elf. _ That explained the pointy ears and strange language. Beca managed to reign in her expression of surprise; the beauty standing before her was far from what she imagined elves to look like. In her head, elves were just Santa's little helpers, clad in red and green stockings with pointy hats.   


“Your, um, your touch is very gentle,” Beca found herself saying, the top of her cheeks burning when her own words echoed back to her.   


“Thank you. I’m glad the pain is bearable.” She applied a large leaf atop the poultice then wrapped Beca's ankle in a sort of bandage. “I will see if Lord Elrond can receive you. In the meantime, you shall rest. I'll ask for someone to bring you some soup and bread.”   


She patted Beca's knee and drew the covers back, giving Beca a soft smile before standing up and spinning on her heels towards the exit.   


“Wait!” Beca called out, propping herself up on her elbows. She needed her stuff. Hopefully it hadn't been left in the woods where they found her. The she-elf turned around, both eyebrows raised in question. “Do you know where my satchel is?”

“Oh yes,” Beca breathed out in relief and watched her walk to a chest and retrieve Beca's leather bag. She set it by Beca on the bed. “Here.”

“Thanks. And my clothes?”   


The elf pinched her lips in thought. “I’m not sure.”   


“My cellphone was in my jacket pocket.”   


Perplexed eyes met hers. “Your...  _ selfon _ ? What is that?”   


Beca sighed in slight frustration, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Nevermind. Maybe it's in here.”   


Beca turned her bag upside down and emptied its contents. Her ipod and headphones were the first to fall out, followed by her sketchbook, the novel she had been reading, her wallet, and a few things that had collected in there over the last few months: some coins, a couple pencils, and a tampon.   


But no phone.   


Lostariel was eyeing Beca's things with a curious and perplexed expression. She reached out, going for the expensive headphones, but Beca snatched them away before she could touch them.   


“Dude! Do you  _ mind _ !?” She cried out with a heavy frown, clutching her most important belonging to her chest. The elf recoiled with a pained expression, eyes wide and guilty as she stared at Beca. For a second, Beca also felt guilty for lashing out.   


“I apologize.”   


After a quick bow, the redhead flew the room without looking back. Beca sat back against the pillows and buried her face in her hands, wracking her brain to try and make sense of any of this madness.   


There  _ had _ to be an explanation as to why she was here. Surely it was an all-too realistic dream and she  _ had _ to wake up at some point. She couldn't live in this ancient world, away from her friends and family.   


Now, she wasn't and had never been close to her family, but right then, she would have given anything to see them again, even her obnoxious cousins.   


Pushing against the onslaught of emotions, Beca turned on her iPod and slid her headphones on, closing her eyes when the familiar beat of one of her mixes filled her surroundings. It made her feel instantly at peace, her music being the only thread still connecting her to what she once knew.   


Beca had started to lose herself in the lyrics when a hand on her shoulder made her jump and hit her elbow against the bedpost in the process.   


“Ow!” She cried out, rubbing at the sore spot before lowering her headphones so that they hung around her neck while she glared at the intruder. It was the leader from the other night. The boy with the immaculate blond hair. “Warn a girl next time, would ya?”   


“What a strange device,” he murmured, clearly transfixed by Beca's iPod laying on her lap, its screen lit and displaying the cover of the album she was listening to. Beca turned it off to save the battery and curled her hand around it protectively. This was the most familiar item from home, and she wasn't about to hand it over.   


“Is there something you wanted?”   


The elf cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze. “Lord Elrond and Gandalf would like to see you.”   


“Gandalf?”   


He looked baffled she didn't know who this Gandalf dude was. “Yes. Gandalf the Grey. The wizard.”   


Oh, brilliant. There was a  _ wizard  _ now. Beca almost expected a unicorn to be her next encounter. Or a leprechaun. That would be kinda cool actually, she could use some dough and definitely some luck.   


“Are you able to walk?”   


Snapping back to the elf, Beca nodded faintly. She was growing restless in bed anyway. Tucking away her things, she swung her legs to the side of the bed and experimentally applied a bit of weight to her injured foot. It still hurt, but it wasn't too bad.   


After being handed a thicker robe, Beca followed --limped would be more accurate-- Legolas down a series of hallways and stairs, finally coming to a stop in front of a large wooden door with brass, round and hollow handles that looked heavier than Beca herself.   


Two men (well, _elves_) were guarding said doors but didn't spare them a glance and continued staring straight ahead until Legolas exchanged a few words with them. Fiddling with her ring nervously, Beca stepped into the large, bright room, once entrance had been granted.

Two men were speaking, stopping when they noticed the extra addition. Beca swallowed and bowed as best as she could. The elf with black hair stepped forward, hands knotted behind his back.   


“I am Lord Elrond, Lord of Imladris. Welcome,” His smile was kind, much kinder than the first time he set his eyes on her back at the river. He bowed his head slightly. “What is your name?”   


Shit, should she curtsy or something? He was a lord, right? Given the state of her ankle, Beca decided against it and simply bowed her head in return.   


“It's, uh, Beca.”   


If her name sounded unusual to him like theirs was to Beca, he didn't let it show.   


“Very well. Beca, this is my friend Gandalf the Grey,” he introduced, motioning to the other person with a wave of the hand. An older man with a long beard and bushy eyebrows wearing long grey robes that reminded Beca of Merlin. “I was told you wanted to speak with me.”   


“Yes,” She stepped forward, interlacing her fingers to keep them from fidgeting some more. “I was hoping that, perhaps, you'd be able to give me some answers. I seem to be lost. This... this isn't where I'm from.”   


“Do you have any recollection regarding how you got here?”   


The question was asked by the Wizard. Beca shook her head and let it hang briefly. “I just remember waking up in the woods. That's where Legolas and his companions found me.”   


Elrond frowned deeply. “What do you mean, this isn't where you are from? Where in Middle Earth are you from, then?”

Beca chewed on the inside of her cheek as her gaze jumped back and forth between the two men.

“I don't know how to explain this without sounding crazy…” She rubbed her forehead as she paced from one point to another. “I'm  _ not _ from Middle Earth. In fact, I had never heard of it before. I don't think I'm from this...  _ world _ . I seem to have traveled in time, or something.”

Beca shut her eyes, expecting the Lord to order she be thrown in the asylum or the... dungeon, upon hearing her nonsense.   


“Traveled in time?” Gandalf asked. “What makes you say that?”   


Beca paused. “All this feels old, different. The way people speak, the way they dress. It looks as if I've traveled back several centuries ago. I'm from the Earth. Period. Not Middle-Earth, just the Earth. I live in a land called the United States of America. I was born there and it is where I live now. We have the electricity and-”   


“The electricity?” the elf interrupted, brows knitted together. “I have never heard of such thing.”   


“ _ Exactly _ ,” Beca sighed heavily. “Because it doesn't  _ exist _ here. Just like it didn't exist in my world a few hundred years ago. Do you catch my drift?”   


Beca rolled her eyes at herself when she received blank looks in response. She should know better than using those expressions.   


“Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"   


Without giving her any answer, the wizard and elf turned to one another, exchanging for long minutes in a language she couldn't understand. Eventually, Beca groaned in frustration and stomped her foot on the ground, drawing their attention.   


“You know I'm still in the room, right? I'd appreciate it if you talked  _ to _ me, instead of  _ about _ me.”   


“Please forgive us,” The wizard said, bowing his head slightly in what Beca guessed was an apology. “We are simply trying to resolve this riddle.”   


“It seems that you have come to our world when it is bound to fall, and I don't think your presence here is a coincidence. I think you may be able to help.”   


Beca narrowed her eyes, shoulders dropping as she stared at the elf. “I don't follow.”   


“Middle-Earth is on the verge of a war, between Good and Evil. A quest shall begin soon, across great distances and against many threats.” Lord Elrond explained with a somber expression.   


“A quest? For what?”   


“A quest against all Evil.”   


This sounded oddly familiar. Beca was starting to realize she had heard of Middle-Earth before.   


Then, it hit her all at once.   


_ “Watch a bunch of dudes touring the country to destroy a ring? And that for more than nine hours? No thanks.”   
_

_ “It's so much more than that! It's a quest! A quest against all Evil.”   
_

The sudden wave of dizziness gripped her limbs again as her brain assessed the last twenty-four or so hours.   


Legolas. That was why the name was so familiar. He was a character from the freakin’  _ Lord of the Rings _ !   


“Oh, fuck,” Beca let out, staggering back. She slumped on the nearest chair before her legs could give out underneath her, and buried her face into her hands. “This can't be happening.”   


“Are you having a vision?” The wizard questioned, and Beca startled when she saw him stand right in front of her as she glanced up. “A vision about the journey, perhaps?”   


“What? No! I don't have  _ visions _ . I don't have powers, and I can _ not _ help with this quest, I'm sorry. You were sent the wrong person.”   


They should have been sent Jesse and their quest would be completed in a matter of days.   


“Gandalf,” the elf spoke, sorrow lacing his tone. “Perhaps she is right. Perhaps she was sent here by mistake. Look at her, she is so young and small, that would mean putting too much pressure on her shoulders.”   


Beca nodded relentlessly, waving her hand towards Elrond while staring at Gandalf. “What he says. I can't do this.”   


The wizard reached out, setting a hand on her shoulder. “We are all burdened by responsibilities and duties we sometimes wish weren't placed upon us. It might be that this quest is your only way to get home. You may have to fulfill your destiny in Middle-Earth to be able to travel back to your own world.”   


“And what am I supposed to do?” Beca asked, her voice cracking under the weight of the emotions unleashing in her chest. “It's not like I can fight. I don't belong here. Why  _ me _ ?”   


Lord Elrond sighed, taking a few steps towards the pair. “You traveled here with the elves, who are bound to take part in the quest. It's no coincidence you were found in their path. I believe Gandalf is right; you are here for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, and I am truly sorry for not being able to provide an answer to what you seek.”   


Beca puffed out a disbelieving breath as she tried to blink away her tears before they could topple over the rims of her eyes. She would not let them see her cry.   


“Can I go, please?” She asked quietly, not daring to meet their eyes. She wanted to be alone, to be able to sob on her own. When Lord Elrond nodded in her peripheral, Beca jumped to her feet, remembering to bow quickly before stepping outside.   


The gush of fresh air filling her lungs the second she walked onto the grass managed to appease the pain in her chest, although too briefly. It quickly became suffocating as it spread to her lungs, her trachea, and soon prevented her from breathing properly.   


She sat on the steps of the healing ward and braced her arms over her knees, laying her forehead on top of her wrists as she inhaled deeply.   


She didn't know how long she sat there, trying to reign in her distress. Lifting her head when she noticed someone had settled down beside her, Beca was surprised to see Legolas.   


“Are you well?” He asked, and for the first time since their meeting, Beca saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. His guard was down, as though he suddenly didn't think of her as a threat anymore.

“They don't know how I got here. They don't know how I can get home.” The sobs that had been itching to get out finally did. Beca brought a hand up to her mouth to try and keep them in, but it was useless. They stumbled past her lips, their force making her shoulders quiver. A tentative hand was laid upon her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. The blond elf was patient, waiting until she calmed down to speak.   


“You are not from this world, are you? The way you speak, and the way you dress, it's all different.”   


Beca snorted, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Right back at ya.”   


He reached inside his pocket and handed her a handkerchief.   


“I'm sorry you couldn't find any answers. I truly wish you had.”   


“Thanks,” Beca mumbled, both for the handkerchief and his words. She chanced a glance towards the elf. He had a lean and kind face, much like the healer. “It's Legolas, right?”   


“Yes. Legolas of Mirkwood. I don't believe you've told me your name, yet.”   


“I'm Beca.”   


His eyebrows knitted together over that piece of information. “What a strange name.”   


Beca barked out a laugh. “I suppose.”   


A hand was thrust towards her. Beca shook it, raising an eyebrow when the elf smiled.   


“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Beca. I am sorry for threatening you on our first meeting. This is a dark time upon our land and each one of us needs to be extremely careful as to our whereabouts and the strangers we meet.”   


“No sweat, dude.”   


Legolas cocked his head to the side, eyes lit up with some sense of curiosity. “What does that mean?  _ Dood _ .”   


Laughter bubbled inside Beca's chest and soon her body was shaking with giggles that made the elf stare at her in bewilderment.   


“What?” He asked in an amused tone. “What have I said that is so funny?”   


“Please say that again,” she managed while gasping for breath, clutching her chest.   


“Dood?”   


“Oh my God,” Beca’s shoulders shook with silent laughter this time around. “Please don't ever stop saying that. This is gold.”   


The amusement on Legolas' face turned to confusion. “I don't see any gold.”   


Beca sighed. Being stuck in this world was bound to be interesting.   


She shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind.”   


“You truly are a strange one.”   


Beca rolled her eyes, shooting him a smirk. “You have no idea.”   


They both sobered up, the conversation Beca had with Lord Elrond and the wizard zooming back to the front of Beca's mind. She looked down to her lap, fiddling with her fingers as she spoke.   


“Are you...” she faltered, wondering how secret their plan was. “Are you part of this... quest?”   


Legolas seemed surprised that she knew of it. She saw the conflict in his eyes before he eventually nodded.   


“Yes. You know of it?”   


Beca looked up to the clear skies. “Apparently I'm part of it, or some shit like that. Gandalf believes I'm here for a reason. He believes I can help. But he's wrong, I...” she clenched her jaw as another wave of emotions hit her. She simply didn't belong here and it made her chest ache. “I'm not cut out for this. I'm not smart, and I can't fight. I don't know of what use I'd be to all of you.”   


“I agree with Gandalf,” He said after a beat. “I don't believe that you are here as a coincidence. And even if you say you'd be useless, I hardly think so. You were sent to us in this dark time for a reason, you will eventually find the meaning to your presence here.”   


“I don't think I have any choice in the matter, anyway. I'm stuck here, so I might as well try and make myself useful.”   


Legolas smiled gently. “And for the fighting aspect, I can teach you, once you are healed.”   


Beca scoffed. “You're in for quite the journey. I can barely chop vegetables without harming myself.”   


“Do not fret. I have a few hundred years of teaching experience under my belt.”   


Beca felt her own eyes widen as she stared at the elf. “A few  _ hundred _ years? How old  _ are _ you?!”

“I am still fairly young. Just under three thousand years.”   


Beca bit back a humorless laugh. She had the feeling she was,  _ herself _ , in for quite the journey.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Bechloe interactions onwards :)


	3. New Friends

Beca woke up in a grim mood the following morning. 

She was still stuck in Middle-Earth, had no way to get home, and on top of that, they were expecting her to go on a goddamn quest. 

Also, she was starting to smell. Her hair was a greasy mess and her armpits reeked. It reached the point where she was ready to sacrifice her $400 headphones in exchange of a hot, nice shower. 

Her fantasy burst when she realized they probably didn't have running water. 

Going to the toilet was already an experience in itself. Just a little building kept far away from the rest with a seat over a hole in the ground. 

No flush, no running water, no cell reception, no wi-fi. 

An off-the-grid experience, some might call it. 

“Oh, fuck me,” she mumbled, turning her head into the pillow as she considered smothering herself with it. The sound of the door opening and closing made her pop one eye open. Catching a glimpse of red hair, Beca sat up as best as she could and followed the woman with her eyes, watching her set a pile of clothing on the dresser before she walked to Beca's bed. 

“How are you this morning?” She asked almost too brightly for Beca's liking at such an ungodly hour. The ward had no goddamn walls on one whole side of it, which meant Beca woke up at ass-o'clock every morning when the sun went up. 

“I'm okay.” She wanted to add 'given the fucking circumstances', but held back. She glanced at the pile of stuff curiously. “What's all this?” 

“Proper clothes,” Lostariel chirped with a smile. “And toiletries. A servant will lead you to the baths so you can wash.” 

Halle – _fucking_ – lujah. 

“How is your leg?” 

“It's, uh, it's better.” 

“Good. May I take a look?” Beca waved a hand as an affirmation. Lostariel plucked the sheet off her body and inspected her ankle, which had gone back to its normal size. Beca gave it an experimental twist and could barely feel any pain. It had healed much faster than it would have with Western medicine. The elf hummed and cast Beca a soft smile. “It indeed looks much better. The warm water should do it good, too. I shall apply some more ointment on it before you go to sleep tonight and it will be completely healed by tomorrow.” 

“Thanks.” As the elf drew the sheet back over her, Beca glanced to the still unconscious boy a couple of beds over to her left. “What's wrong with him?” 

Lostariel followed her line of sight and visibly stiffened. For a beat, Beca faltered, thinking she had overstepped the line and asked a question that shouldn't be asked, but then the other woman looked back at her with a pained expression. 

“He is carrying the world on his shoulders.” 

Beca didn't know what she meant by that, but didn't dare prying. She was a guest, and she was sure some people still believed she was a spy or whatever, and didn't want to take any risk getting another one of those arrows pointed at her face because she asked too many questions.

She still had no idea of how much time had passed since the accident, or how long she had been asleep when she woke up yesterday morning. 

“What's the date?” 

The elf had started making her way to the door when Beca spoke. She span around and said, “October 24th.” 

The accident happened on October 19th. The accuracy in dates was enough of a hint to have Beca believe she was living in a parallel universe, that her world was still moving forward, at the same pace as this one. 

She didn't know if she should feel reassured or terrified over that piece of information. 

“Do you need anything else?” She asked patiently, cutting through Beca's musings. Shaking her head, Beca quietly returned her goodbye. 

It wasn't long before she was led to the baths, a Roman-style room with four walls and high ceilings. There was no wall separating each bathtub dug in the ground and Beca was thankful to be the only one in there. 

Once the servant had left, Beca set the toiletries she had been provided with next to one of the baths and, after a quick skim of her eyes across the room to make sure she was truly alone, tugged her gown over her head and tossed it beside her. 

She dipped the tip of her foot tentatively. While she was eager to get into the water and not just be standing around stark naked and risk being seen, she'd rather not scald herself either. 

Beca couldn't contain the guttural moan that flit through her lips as soon as she was up to the neck submerged by the warm water. It brought relief to her aching body, while also ridding it of the soil it had been soaking in for the last five days. 

As much as she would have liked to stay in there until her skin turned pruny, the water didn't hide much and she was wary about someone else walking in. She grabbed the glass bottle she was provided with, opened it and brought it up to her nose, closing her eyes at the heavenly smell that escaped from it. This was the closest thing to soap and shampoo she would get over here, and she couldn't wait to lather herself with it, especially as she didn't know when she would get the luxury to bathe again. 

She thoroughly washed her disgusting hair until it looked more or less similar to what she was used to. She's didn't kid herself; there was no hair straightener around here, and her natural curls were bound to show up soon. 

(Yikes.)

At least it was now smooth and clean, and so was her skin. Allowing herself another minute of bliss, she reluctantly stepped out, and wrapped the velvety drape elves considered towels around her body, quickly drying herself and sorting out the clothes she was given. 

A sort of white shorts that she concluded were meant to be undergarments, a dark grey skirt that reached her feet, a white tunic and a dark green vest that tightened at the chest with laces. 

She made a mental note to herself to at least wear her bra again. Nobody would know, it wasn't as obvious as if she were to walk around in her jeans and leather jacket. 

God, she missed wearing her leather jacket already. 

After getting dressed, Beca wove her hair into a loose braid and walked back to the healing ward. She grabbed her sketchbook, along with a pencil, and stepped on the soft grass of the gardens. She wandered around with no destination in mind, stopping for a little while on the bridge to watch the high waterfalls falling from the top of the mountains above and pouring into the river below her. 

As she resumed her walk, a series of repetitive sounds led her to what appeared to be a training ground, where of group of elves were practicing archery and knife throwing. 

She found a log of wood to sit on and opened her sketchbook to a blank page, propping it up on her thighs as she started brushing the paper with her pencil to outline the scene in front of her. Lost in her drawing for the following hour, she didn't notice the person sitting next to her until they spoke. 

"You are gifted." 

Beca startled, her pencil slipping out of her grasp as her hand shot up to grip her chest. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," she narrowed her eyes at the culprit of her near-heart attack. It was the immaculate elf. "Legolas, I'm starting to think you find some sort of creepy pleasure in scaring me." 

"Forgive me," Legolas offered kindly with a quick bow of his head. He bent down to pick up the pencil and gave it back to Beca. "That was not my intent. I was simply surprised to see you here." 

"Yeah... I got bored in my room." Shrugging, Beca glanced down to her sketch. "And when I'm bored, I usually draw or listen to music." 

"Oh, do you have minstrels at your disposal every time you want to listen to music in your world?" 

"Minstrels?" Beca chuckled, amusement dancing in her eye. "No. In my land we have these small boxes that play music. The songs are recorded and kept in the box and I can listen to it whenever I want." 

Legolas hummed uncertainly. Beca found herself thinking that she didn't mind his company. He had this sort of calming aura about him that made her feel a tiny bit better about being so far away from home.

They had only known each other for five days, a span in which he had threatened to kill her, yet he was the closest to a friend she had in this new land. 

She turned her attention back to the grounds, surprised to see Lostariel. She was practicing archery, dressed in what Beca could define as combat clothes if she had to compare them to something belonging to her time. 

"The healers fight, too?" 

Legolas followed her line of sight and nodded. "Yes. All elves fight, but not all elves are healers. Lostariel has a special gift. Much like Lord Elrond." 

“Lostariel,” it was the second time she heard that name being spoken, and she liked the sound of it on her tongue. It sounded mystical and pure and warm, much like its owner. 

"Yes. She also goes as Chloe in Westron." 

“Westron?” The term seemed familiar, but Beca couldn't place when she had last heard it. 

Legolas' brows furrowed in confusion and wordlessly gaped at her for a stretch. “The language we're speaking now.” 

“Oh.” Beca let out, not sure how to assess that piece of information. To her own ears, she was speaking English, and so was Legolas. She came to the conclusion that either they were the same languages but with different names or she was speaking a foreign tongue without realizing it. 

Beca let her eyes flit back to Chloe as she aimed an arrow at a target and hit it right in its center, then reached for another from the quiver strapped to her back and went through the exact same motion. The focus on her features as well as her stance, impeccable and confident, made archery look so graceful but also... sexy. 

Beca's heart stammered at her own thoughts and she tore her eyes away. 

"Are you two good friends?" she asked in curiosity. She wouldn't be surprised if Legolas told her they were together; they would make quite the attractive couple. 

"Yes, we are from the same realm and we've known each other since we were very young. About 2500 years, I think." 

Beca stifled a laugh. She had yet to get used to the absurdness of it all. She was stuck in... Middle Earth with a bunch of elves, and was expected to go on a quest for some kind of ring. Really, this wasn't how she expected her day to go when she woke up in her dorm the day of the car crash. 

Her thoughts drifted to Jesse and a bolt of pain shot right through her heart. She had no idea if Jesse had survived or if he was in the same situation as her, stranded somewhere in an unknown land – maybe in this one, for all she knew – or stuck in a very bizarre dream that only felt too real to simply be the figment of her imagination. 

She knew that, were she really dreaming, she wouldn't have questioned it so many times. She would have woken up by now. 

“Would you like to give it a try?” Legolas' question drew Beca out of her thoughts. She was thankful he did, as she had given her mind too much to dwell on lately and it could use a rest. 

“I'm sorry?” she asked, not sure what he was referring to. 

“Archery.” He cleared up, nodding towards the group of elves. “Or knife throwing. Either will be useful during battle.” 

Beca felt her eyes widen. “B-battle?” 

“Our land is at war against Evil. Battle will be inevitable.” 

Beca laughed humorlessly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Awesome. I'm going to _ die _ out there, Legolas. I told you, I don't know anything about fighting. Besides, have you even taken a good look at me? I'm _ tiny _.” 

“Size doesn't matter,” Legolas stated with the utmost seriousness and Beca bit hard on the inside of her cheek not to snicker at his oblivious innuendo. “It's your wit and your heart that will prevail.” 

Beca hummed doubtfully. “I feel like I should at least be a little bit stronger. I'm not even sure I can pick up a sword.” 

“Then there's no better time or place to start,” Legolas said confidently and stood up, holding a hand out to her. Beca opened and closed her mouth several times, but her brain was not able to form any protest. “Come on.” 

Beca followed him to the group, made up of five flawlessly beautiful elves, who stopped practicing when they caught sight of her. She waved awkwardly. “Whaddup, elves,” Then thrust a thumb towards her chest. “Rookie here.” Upon receiving five blank stares in response, Beca cleared her throat and muttered the rest under her breath, “Well, this ought to be fun.” 

She saw on the corner of her eyes that Chloe, the sixth one, was stifling a grin. She smiled back, then focused on her 'teacher'. 

Legolas had grabbed a dagger, and was holding it by the hilt of the blade. In one swift movement, he threw it towards the wooden stake standing at a distance, hitting it right in the middle. Beca's jaw dropped while the other elves remained stoic, showing no particular reaction or awe at the perfect technique.

Beca gulped. “Tough crowd,” she mumbled, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Here,” Legolas said, handing her another one of those daggers. It was so sharp that it would do a lot of damage if she were to drop it on her foot, which, let's face it, is what was most likely to happen. Beca's eyes widened, switching back and forth from the weapon to Legolas' amused expression. “Give it a try.” 

“Um,” Beca looked around her to find more elves having gathered around her. She suddenly felt even more of a circus freak, or as though she needed to pass the test if she wanted to enroll into elf school. She turned to Legolas, stepping close enough to be only heard by him. “Can't they like, go away?” She hissed. “They're giving me performance anxiety.” 

Before Legolas could reply, his focus shifted to something behind Beca, his eyes lighting up and an uncharacteristic beaming smile spreading over his face. Beca looked over her shoulder to see a man with black hair and a five-day beard striding towards them. His features appeared exhausted and he looked as though he hadn't had a proper shower in days. 

“Aragorn!” Legolas exclaimed as the man stepped closer and they shared a quick embrace. Aragorn, if Beca had listened correctly, looked about as human as she did and she found herself breathing out a sigh of relief upon seeing one of her kind. She wanted to ask him so many questions at once, if the same thing had happened to him, or if he knew how to get her out of here.

However, the poor guy looked like he was on the verge of collapsing, so she held back. 

He spared her a quick glance, barely hiding his surprise upon seeing her, but didn't say anything, turning back to the elf. “Legolas, _ mellon _, take me to Gandalf. The matter is urgent.” 

The pair departed towards the main building, leaving Beca and the other elves on their own. She realized she still had the dagger in her hand and awkwardly looked around for a spot to set it before she hurt herself. A hand shot out towards her, palm up. 

She glanced up to find Lostariel, or uh, _Chloe_, and laid the weapon in her hand. “Um, thanks, dude.” 

Chloe nodded, closing her fist around the knife. She tilted her head to the side, curious eyes peering into Beca's. They were probably the bluest pair Beca had ever seen; intense and soothing, charming and intimidating all at once. 

“How are you?” she asked softly, tucking the weapon away in the jute pouch strapped to her hip. 

“I feel better now that I was able to wash myself.” 

“I'm happy to hear that.” She led Beca away from the group, who had resumed training and sat on a low wall, laying her quiver and bow next to her. After a beat of hesitation, Beca sat down next to her, leaving a fair bit of distance between them. 

Cries of celebration made them both snap their heads over their shoulders. Up on the porch, Beca caught sight of the boy who had been unconscious still this morning. He was surrounded by three other people, all shorter than her in height, who took their turn hugging him. 

Beca smiled at the happy reunion, all the while feeling a pang to her chest from how much she missed home. Shaking her head out of those thoughts, she turned back to watch the elves train some more. She was aware of Chloe staring at the side of her face but didn't dare look at her as she was trying to keep the tears gathered in her eyes from falling. 

A butterfly flew past her nose, making a lap around her before it settled on the back of her hand. Beca stared down at it, mesmerized by its canvas of bright colors. 

“We call those _ gwilwileth _. They are signs of luck and happiness to come.” 

Beca nodded, slowly lifting her hand towards her to get a better look at it. It flew away seconds later and Beca lost sight it as it flapped towards the sun. 

“If you don't mind me asking...” Chloe hesitated, eyes holding a dash of shyness as they slid up to meet Beca's. “Where were you going the night we found you?” 

“Um, I don't know. I don't really know how I got here, to be honest,” she swallowed uneasily, wringing her hands in her lap. “This isn't my home and I don't know how to go back.” 

Chloe's eyes softened. She was clearly pained to hear Beca's story. “I am truly sorry.” She remained silent for a stretch, lips pursed as she stared into the distance. “Perhaps Gandalf can help you. He is a very powerful wizard.” 

“He says he believes I'm here for a reason. I don't know what it is, yet, and neither does he. Maybe... once I've accomplished what I'm supposed to do here, I can go back.”

Chloe sent her a soft smile, reaching out to cover Beca's hands with her own. “We'll find a way to get you home.” 

Beca had never trusted empty promises, but nodded anyway. Chloe's touch had scattered unexpected warmth to every corner of her body. It felt nice and soothing.

“Where's home to you?” 

Chloe retrieved her hand. “Mirkwood. On the other side of the Misty Mountains. A week's ride from here.” 

Beca nodded as though she knew those places. They fell silent for a stretch. 

“Are you guys immortal?” she blurted out. “Legolas told me he was almost three thousand years old.” 

“We cannot die of illness. We can be killed, however.” Chloe paused and glanced back at her with a perplexed look. “There are no elves in your world?” 

“No. Only in made-up stories.” 

“What about wizards? Dwarfs? Hobbits?”

“Same,” Beca replied, ears perking up at the mention of those mystical beings she had yet to meet. “Anything mystical belongs to fantasy in my world. It's either in books or on television.” 

“Television?” Chloe asked in curiosity. Her head was titled to the side once more, blue eyes focused entirely on Beca. “What is a television?” 

Beca smiled and cleared her throat as she sought the right words. “It's a... sort of box that shows images that have been recorded before, with another box, that we call a camera. Like a...” she wracked her brain to find a similar concept that Chloe would understand. “Like a moving painting, if you will. Say you have five different painting showing the same scene, only half a second apart. When you line the paintings one after another, you see the action unfold.” She tried not to laugh at Chloe's confused expression. It was kind of adorable. “Do you understand?” 

“Yes, I believe so. Do you have one of those back home?” she asked. “A te – ” she stopped herself, looking for the word before soon giving up. “...a moving box.” 

“Yeah. Most people do in my world.”

Chloe's eyes sparkled. “That sounds fascinating.” 

“It's not, really,” Beca found herself saying. “It sounds fascinating because it's completely different to what you are used to. Like this world is to me.” 

“So, we elves, are in your moving box?” 

Beca snickered, amused by Chloe's dazed expression. “Yes.” 

Chloe's eyebrows knitted together. “But I do not understand, if... we do not exist in your world, how are we in the box?” 

Beca paused to mull it over. Explaining to Chloe movies and acting was probably too much for one conversation. 

“We draw you.” 

Chloe's frown only etched deeper. “But how can you know what we look like if you have never seen us?” 

“We use legends, stories that people have come up with over the centuries,” Beca explained slowly. “And our imagination.” 

“Oh.” Chloe breathed out, blinking twice in slow succession. “Do you have one of those moving boxes with you?” 

“No,” Beca chuckled. “It's too big to carry around.” 

“Oh.” She let out again, this time in disappointment. Beca made a mental note to make her listen to her iPod, at some point, once she had gained her trust. She didn't want to take the risk being seen as some kind of dark wizard because the few modern items she carried with her. 

“I'm Beca, by the way,” she said after a beat of comfortable silence. “I don't think I've ever introduced myself.” 

Chloe bowed her head slightly. “My name is Lostariel. But you are welcome to call me Chloe.” 

A bell rang from the porch before Beca could say anymore, and Chloe sprung up to her feet, holding a hand out to her. Upon Beca's confusion, she explained, “It's the bell for dinner.” 

Beca let herself be helped to her feet and walked back to the wooden log to grab her stuff before following Chloe in what looked like the dining hall. So far, Beca had eaten her meals on her own in the healing ward, and was stepping in the new space for the first time. 

It was no Hogwarts (Beca had half-expected to find candles dangling from the ceiling) but the hall was warm and cozy and filled with life. 

There were many people – elves, mostly – milling about either helping themselves to food by the buffet or eating it at the dozen of tables lined up with benches. Beca helped herself to a plate and eyed the food warily. 

Definitely not Hogwarts. 

The potatoes looked sad and bland, the meat (beef, she thought) looked dry and at least to be a few days old. 

That was it. Dry meat and potatoes. Not deep-fried or cut into chip but fresh out of the ground, dumped into boiling water potatoes. 

She scooped a small spoon of each onto her plate, along with a piece of white bread before stepping away from the buffet and pouring herself some water, then looked for a place to sit. Chloe had settled down among a group on a far table. Legolas was sat next to her and the human Beca spotted earlier sat across from her. 

There was enough space for her to sit next to the four boys she had witnessed celebrating earlier and she walked over, tentatively sitting down next to one of them. 

“Hi there!” Beca heard as soon as her butt touched the bench. She twisted her head to the right, towards one of the boys. She noted he also had pointy ears, but he was too short to be an elf. “My name is Peregrine Took! But everyone calls me Pippin! And you are?”

The corners of Beca's lips edged towards a genuine smile as she stared at the extended hand. It was the first time in several days where someone she had just met hadn't opened with something along the lines of 'you're not from here'. 

She slipped her hand into Pippin's calloused one and gave it a slight shake. “My name is Beca. Beca Mitchell.” 

“Happy to make your acquaintance, Beca,” Pippin beamed, then pointed to the rest of his friends. “This is Merry, my best friend.” A boy with light brown, curly hair -- which reminded Beca of her father's hairdo from his high school picture in the late seventies -- nodded his head at her with a small, timid smile. “Sam McGee,” Another polite nod and awkward wave from the brown-haired boy. “And Frodo Baggins.” 

Beca paused, as this was the boy who was also in the healing ward until this morning. His features looked tired and pained, as though he was indeed, carrying the misery of the world over his shoulders. 

“It's, uh, nice to meet you all.” She said with a nod and went back to staring at her food, hesitantly picking up a fork and bringing a thin piece of meat to her mouth. She winced at the first chew; this thing was harder than the bottom of a shoe. Thankfully, she didn't have to speak as Pippin was doing so for the whole table. 

“Where are you from? Bree?” He didn't wait for her reply and continued. “We've just come from there! We're originally from the Shire, the greatest place in Middle-Earth! We have great food, nothing compared to this. No offense,” he threw to the servant when the elf passed by them. Beca snorted into her cup of water. “But the best thing about the Shire is the _ leaf _.” 

Beca was finally able to swallow the piece of dried meat. “The leaf?” 

“Yes,” Pippin confirmed with an enthusiastic nod. “Pipe-weed. Would you like some?” 

Just as he reached into his pocket, a gruff voice interrupted him, “Pippin. Let the girl breathe.” 

It was Aragorn, the human she had seen a mere hour before. While he looked cleaner, his features were still begging for rest. He spared Beca another glance, but didn't offer anything else and turned back to his food. 

Beca forced her gaze away, then leaned towards Pippin, one hand cupping her mouth as though she was telling him a secret. “Maybe later.” 

Pippin beamed up at her, and Beca couldn't help but smile back. 

When she fell asleep that night after Chloe tended to her ankle, Beca couldn't say the day was so awful. She was clean, more or less fed, still high from the pipe-weed, and she believed she had made some friends, today. 

Her heart still longed for home, but she had no choice but to get used to this place, for it seemed like she would be stuck here quite some time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mellon = friend in Elvish


	4. Preparing For the Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to user Zentamaus for sharing their knowledge with archery, it was of great help! :D

Beca was pulled away from her dreamless sleep by her shoulder being shaken. She grumbled something not even herself could register, blindly batting the offending hand away. 

“Leave me alone,” she mumbled, angling her face into the pillow. “Need sleep.” 

Her foggy brain eventually caught up with the situation and the fact that she was no longer in Barden but in a foreign land. 

She peaked through a half-open lid, only mildly surprised to see bright blue eyes staring down at her. 

“What do you want?” Beca huffed, tugging the blankets tighter around her frame. “Why are you waking me up at ass-o-clock?” 

Chloe seemed to be both amused and appalled by Beca's language. “Today is your first lesson.” 

That pulled Beca out of her sleepy haziness. “My first... what?” 

“Archery lesson. You need to know how to use a bow out there.” 

Ah, yes.  _ Out there _ . 

A few days ago, some important council had taken place. Beca was not part of it, but Lord Elrond had come to find her afterwards, announcing she would be making the journey along with Frodo, one of the hobbits, and nine other companions all the way to the fires of Mount Something to destroy the ring and defeat Evil. 

Beca now understood the meaning behind 'carrying the world on his shoulders'. 

They were set out to leave in a month, and, as far as she knew, Beca was still her clumsy and awkward self, capable of injuring herself if given a weapon destined to be used to harm others. 

“Can't we do it later?” she whined, slowly sitting up and squinting against the morning light. Chloe looked as flawless as ever, her hair woven in her signature braid with a few runaway strands framing her face. 

“You are very grumpy in the morning.” Chloe observed with a frown. 

“I'm  _ always _ grumpy.” Beca corrected, stifling a yawn as she rubbed the leftover sleep from her blurry eyes. Chloe, on the other hand, seemed to be happy at any hour of the day, any day of the year. She walked around sporting an aura of sunshine around her, sunshine that Beca's little rain rain cloud was sadly not immune to. 

“We have a lot of work,” the elf pressed, dropping the pile of clothes she had been holding by Beca's hip. “Meet me in the gardens in ten minutes.” 

“Yes ma'am,” Beca agreed begrudgingly, giving Chloe a mock-salute that the elf failed to see as she had already spun on her heels and was headed towards the exit. After a trip to the bathroom (or the hole, as she called it), Beca examined the pile of clothes, pleased to note that she no longer had to wear the long skirt she kept tripping on every time she tried to walk, as pants had been provided this time around. 

She slid them on, tucking her tunic inside before buttoning them up. Then, she laced the vest and slipped her feet into her biker boots, the only item from home that could more or less blend into this new world. There were also two leather forearm guards among the pile, which she fastened around her wrists once she had figured out what they actually were. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and made her way to the training grounds.

“There you are,” Chloe stated brightly eleven minutes or so later (Beca was never on time) and thrust a bow in Beca's hand. “Today's lesson is archery.” 

Thankfully the grounds were empty, meaning Beca wouldn't have to humiliate herself in front of all those super-talented elves that made anything look easy. 

“Do you have the whole week in front of you?” Beca offered weakly, casting her eyes to the weapon. She had never handled a bow before and unless she had some sort of hidden talent (unlikely, especially regarding any type of sport), this was bound to take half a year. “Cause this might take a while.” 

“I do not mind,” Chloe replied with a soft smile. “It’s important that you know how to defend yourself when our journey begins.” 

_ "Our _ journey?” Beca echoed in surprise. “You're coming too?” 

“I am,” Chloe confirmed. “The fate of Middle Earth is naturally very dear to me and Lord Elrond believed it was wise to have a healer as myself among the fellowship.” 

Beca wanted to ask who else was coming, but she didn't want to pry. Lord Elrond hadn't been more specific and she wanted to stay in his good books. She was glad Chloe would be part of the journey. The elf was by far, along with Legolas, the kindest person Beca had met so far. 

Beca nodded, lips tugging upwards into a small smile. She eyed the bow. “So... How does this thing work?” 

“Which hand is dominant?” Beca lifted her left hand. “And which eye do you see better with?” 

Beca shrugged. “I dunno, the right one, I guess.” 

“Very well, we will try with you holding the bow in your left hand, and shoot with your right hand,” Beca switched hands, holding the wooden bow in her left as told. Chloe's hand came up to rest over hers, positioning it on the correct spot. “Your grip musn’t be too tight.” 

Beca loosened her fingers. “Right.” 

“Good. Now we’ll focus on your stance.” Chloe showed her by taking her own bow, standing beside her in front of the target positioned about twenty-five feet away. Beca mimicked her and for the next ten minutes or so, practiced shooting arrows... without arrows. Which she figured made sense; it wouldn't be much fun to look for the many ones she would end up shooting in the bushes or the trees. Chloe came up behind her, her hand gently resting on Beca's hips to tilt them back just a tad. “Remember, perpendicular to the target.” 

Beca blinked and nodded, momentarily thrown off by the blank her brain experienced upon Chloe touching her. Her hands disappeared the second Beca adjusted her posture and Beca shook off whatever that was as plain surprise. 

“Alright. Are you ready to try with arrows? Because you will not harm anyone that way.” 

Beca chuckled, throwing her an eye-roll. “Thanks, Sherlock.” 

Her sarcasm was met with an adorable frown. “Who is Sherlock?” 

“Nevermind, it's – “ Beca waved it off. “It's a joke from my world.” 

Chloe's eyes brightened. “Oh. You will have to explain it to me once we’re done with the training.” 

They shared a soft smile. “Deal.” 

Chloe handed Beca her first arrow then, showing her the proper way to position it against the edge of the bow and nock it to the string. Beca focused on the target – a round wooden shape nailed to a tree – and closed her eye, aiming for the center. She tightened the string, pulling her elbow back and released it a few seconds later, the arrow falling about four feet away. 

Beca laughed at her own performance, glancing to Chloe. “See? Natural talent.” 

“It is quite alright. We’ll practice until the sun goes down if we have to.” 

“What? Skip breakfast  _ and _ lunch?” Beca gasped, her jaw falling open. “You're a pitiless teacher, Chloe.” 

“We would be on time for lunch if you aimed better,” Chloe fired back with a smirk, and Beca's jaw fell even slacker. She didn't expect the adorable, sweet elf to have some wit in her. “Do it again, I will correct your posture.” 

Beca nocked another arrow to her bow, adopting the same stance as last time, ready to release it. She felt Chloe's hands come up to rest on her shoulders and her voice sounded much closer than she expected. 

“Loosen the tension in your shoulders. Focus on your target and your target only.” Difficult to do so when her body was having such a bizarre reaction to Chloe's proximity; like an unexpected rush of warmth washing over her entire body from inside out. She nodded and Chloe thankfully stepped away. Her arrow didn't hit the target this time around either, but it was definitely closer. “Good. Better. Attempt it again.” 

An uncountable failed attempts later, Beca was grateful she was wearing that leather protection thingy around her wrist; she would have probably skinned her inner forearm with the string by now without it. 

Eventually, following what felt like an hour, Beca finally hit the target. The arrow didn't land in the center and probably lacked speed, but it was still in. 

“Fuck yeah!” Beca cried victoriously as she pumped her fist. She paused at Chloe's dumbfounded look. “What?” 

“Your language is very strange.” 

Beca smirked. “And you haven't heard half of it.” She stared at Chloe expectantly. “That's all I get? I hit the damn target!” 

Chloe smirked right back. “Did you want a trophy perhaps?” Her eyes flicked to the target, then back at Beca, amused and sprinkled with wicked. “That would hardly keep anyone from coming at you.” 

“Damn, you're hard to please,” Beca observed, eyebrow arched in surprise. “Do we have to keep going? My arm hurts.” 

The whine in her tone was maybe too much, but it seemed to work on the master-elf. 

“I suppose we can stop for lunch. And this afternoon we shall focus on sword fighting.” 

Beca blinked. “You know how to sword fight, too?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course you do. You're like... a Superhuman. Well... Superelf in your case.” 

Chloe shook her head as they started making her way to the dining hall, breaking the comfortable silence a little while later. “What is... fuck?” 

Beca snorted. “It's... a bad word. You shouldn't say it.” She couldn't imagine perfect, adorable elf Chloe ever saying  _ fuck _ . 

“Are you not going to tell me what it means?” 

“It's a word that you use to emphasize a feeling. Anger, joy, disappointment, it fits any situation really,” Beca would know, she used it in every other sentence. “It's also a verb to describe two people... making love but the crass way.” 

Chloe made a non-committal sound. “I see.” 

They stepped into the buzzing hall, Beca grumbling under her breath about the poor food options once more. Seriously, all these guys ate were potatoes. 

She reluctantly helped herself to a few, some dry meat and carrots. 

“You need to eat more, lass,” Beca looked down to find the dwarf she had seen hanging around for the last few days staring up at her. His beard was about as long as his body and she wondered how he could walk without tripping on it. “You’re tiny.” That was rich, coming from a dwarf, but Beca bit her wit back. “You think you’ll be able to slay orcs if you eat a piece of meat a day? That will not be enough to even pick up your sword.” She watched as he piled three other slices of beef on her plate. “There.” 

Beca chuckled, forcing a smile. “ _ Yum _ . Thanks.” 

The following weeks were both exhausting and exhilarating. Beca met Chloe or Legolas every morning at seven at the grounds and they would train all day long, that it be raining, hailing or snowing. 

Each morning started with a jog around the training grounds, then an archery lesson which lasted until lunch. Knife throwing and sword fighting would take place in the afternoon. 

Beca's body hurt more than it ever did and she discovered some muscles she didn't even know existed. 

High-school PE classes were a joke compared to training for battle. 

Beca was surprisingly good at knife throwing, archery was a slow but steady process, while sword fighting was definitely not her thing. 

The fact that the sword weighed about as much as her didn't help either. Holding up was a challenge of its own, nevermind swinging it around to try and harm someone else. 

“Dead.” 

Beca huffed, taking the offered extended hand to haul herself up once Chloe had lowered her sword from where its tip was pressing against Beca's chest. “Let's do it again.” 

Concern stared back at her. “Are you certain you do not require a break?” 

Beca grabbed her water jug, shaking her head and taking a sip. She wiped her forehead with her sleeve to soak up the beads of sweat rolling down her skin. “We may not have breaks during battles, right?” 

Chloe smiled, something akin to pride dancing in her eye. “Very well.”

They got back into position, both raising their swords. Chloe took a step towards her, jabbing her practice sword at Beca's waist, who twisted away so it went through air, taking a step back and pressed her sword towards the elf, who easily blocked her attack. 

Chloe spun on herself, feinting her sword at Beca but Beca blocked it just in time, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing throughout the ground. Chloe's eyebrows rose, pride sweeping over her features. “Good.” 

“Thanks,” Beca breathed out, barely able to suck in some oxygen before Chloe countered with a flurry of two quick jabs, but Beca managed to block and duck, swinging her own sword at Chloe's legs, who jumped over it easily. “Not fair.” 

It took another excruciatingly hard five minutes but somehow, with the tactics and skills Chloe had taught her, Beca managed to disarm her. Beca's jaw dropped at her own achievement, eyes bright with satisfaction. “Ha ha!” 

“Good. Very good.” Chloe complimented humbly. “You yet have ways to go but you are on the right path.” 

Pride bloomed in Beca’s chest. “Thanks, Chloe.” 

By December, Beca had mastered the art of defending herself with three weapons, her cardio was better than it had ever been thanks to countless laps around the training grounds and she had somehow gotten used to her new bearings and limited comfort. 

Beloved boots on her feet, Beca slipped on the leather vest she was provided over her dark red tunic, lacing it meticulously to her chest. Next came her sword, which she strapped to her waist, her leather wrist guards and her knife, which she tucked inside one of her boots. 

In her leather pack, she slipped her sketchbook, her ipod, a few pens, and a pair of earbuds. 

Minutes later, Beca stood at the doors of Imladris next to her companions for this journey: the four hobbits, Gandalf the Grey, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Chloe and Bill the pony. 

“The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further that you will.” Lord Elrond spoke with eloquence, features holding great solemnity. “Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you.” He placed a hand over his chest and bowed, the ten members of the fellowship mimicking his actions. 

As they made their way through the gate, Beca heard Frodo’s shy voice from her spot at the back alongside Legolas and Chloe. 

“Modor Gandalf, is it left or right?” 

“Left.” 

So it began...


	5. Through Forest, Rivers and Mountains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I borrowed some of the dialogue from the LOTR script, it does not belong to me.

As they made their way over the bridge and up the steep path leading out of Rivendell, Beca found herself wondering if she would ever see her world again.

It was unlikely. She was one of the most inexperienced fighters of the group and her chances of survival were slim, if not downright nonexistent. 

The first day of their journey was dreadful, the December cold biting Beca’s skin despite the many layers of clothing and the fur-lined cloak she wore. 

After ten hours of trekking and as nighttime fell upon them, Gandalf announced they would stop for the night to rest and Beca was so happy about the break she could have hugged him. 

Except...

Beca  _ loathed _ camping.

Like, with a passion. It really came as a conundrum to her, how people did that on purpose and considered it  _ fun _ . 

But it wasn’t like she had much of a choice, did she? They were in the middle of  _ nowhere _ . 

Plus, her feet  _ ached  _ and were screaming for a moment of reprieve, so she pushed aside her overwhelming discomfort about their sleeping conditions and attempted to find a spot where she didn’t wake up in the middle of the night because of a stone jabbing into her back. 

As they couldn’t light a fire and risk being seen, dinner was cold and grim. Beca laid down to rest on a near empty stomach, the anxiety seizing her chest over her current situation rendering sleep impossible. After tossing and turning for an hour or so, she sat up with a heavy sigh and glanced around, catching a figure looking into the distance a dozen feet away. 

The moonlight cast enough brightness over them to clue Beca in on their identity and she got up, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself as she made her way over. Chloe glanced over her shoulder, lips curving into a small smile as Beca lowered herself on the same rock, leaving a small space between them. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Beca whispered, momentarily mesmerized by the bluish hues of the moonlight dancing over the elf’s delicate features. 

“Elves don’t sleep,” Chloe replied just as quietly, twisting her head to look at Beca. “We can rest but we don’t need it. I told Legolas I would take the first watch.” 

Beca rolled her eyes, stifling a snicker. “Of course you don’t.” She bumped her shoulder against Chloe’s, pulling her attention to her following a lull. “Tell me more about elves. What other abilities do you guys have that humans don’t?” 

Chloe took a few beats of silence. “We can see and hear from great distances. Jump high into the trees and move about without making a sound.” She hesitated, focusing back on the piece of wood she was carving with her knife. “We are not ill for power as the human race is. We can live for centuries, but sometimes I find myself wondering if that is a blessing or a curse.” 

There was a definite longing in Chloe’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by Beca. Being quite possibly the worst person to turn to when it came to feelings, Beca only hummed in response. She didn’t know what living for thousands of years was like, but could imagine it got lonely, sometimes. 

A blast of wind made her shiver as she reached to tuck a strand of hair flying into her face back behind her ear. 

“You’re shaking,” Beca hadn’t realized until now she was trembling from a mix of cold, exhaustion and hunger. Chloe grabbed her hand and pulled it into her lap, sandwiching it between her own. Before Beca could ask what she was doing, she felt warmth flow from the tips of her fingers, along her veins until it spread to every corner of her body. 

“How do you…?” She faltered, figuring this was also one of Chloe’s special gifts. 

“What do you do when you cannot sleep?” 

“I listen to music,” Beca said without having to think about it. “I have this tiny box that has music on it and I can listen to it whenever I want.” 

Chloe’s eyes got bigger. “That sounds fascinating.” 

Beca smiled. “It’s pretty dope, yeah. Stay here,” She stood and went to retrieve her bag, tiptoeing around the sleeping bodies. Taking her initial spot next to Chloe, she fished out her iPod and fired it up, offering Chloe an earbud. The elf stared at it quizzically, waiting for Beca to slip hers into her ear before doing the same. Beca shuffled through her various playlist before deciding on  _ True Colors _ . She thought R&B or pop might be too much of a shock to Chloe, who had probably only heard medieval themed music. 

Chloe looked equal parts puzzled and mesmerized for the whole length of the song, and Beca seemed unable to take her eyes away from her profile, finding her reaction both adorable and wholesome. Chloe glanced up when the last notes faded away, her own eyes brighter than usual. “Are you able to play it again?” 

“Yeah,” Beca said softly, slow-blinking. The elf had an effect on her that Beca couldn’t quite explain. “Of course, as many times as you want. I can also put a different song on.” 

“I like that one,” Chloe spoke quietly. “It’s soothing.” 

She hit play, casting Chloe a small smile. “Okay.” 

Somewhere through the third replay, Beca’s head found Chloe’s shoulder and she soon fell asleep. 

She woke up at the crack of dawn,  _ literally _ , slightly disoriented as to why there was no roof above her head and why her entire body felt like she had turned eighty years old overnight. Events of the night before slowly came back to her, and as the last thing Beca could remember was listening to music with Chloe, she was confused as to how she made it back to her cloak. Upon checking, her pack was still next to her, and Beca found her iPod in there as well. She turned it off to save the battery and sat up, wincing and cursing under her breath from the throbbing ache that was her entire body. 

“Good, you’re awake.” Beca glanced up to find Aragorn looking down at her. It was probably the third sentence he had addressed to her ever since they met. It wasn’t like he didn’t seem to like her, he was just very reserved and didn’t speak much. “We’re setting off soon.” 

Beca nodded, wrapping her cloak around herself when a chill ran down her spine. After finding a bush behind which she could… do her business, Beca gratefully accepted a piece of bread from Pippin and slung her pack over her shoulders. 

_God_, what she would do for a hot cup of coffee. 

The following days and weeks followed the same outline. The fellowship moved in silence not to draw attention to themselves. They walked for miles, ate a cold dinner and slept in terrible conditions. 

“Beca,” Beca turned towards the whisper, squinting in the darkness to make out Chloe’s features. Beca wasn’t sleeping, too cold to do so. She had gotten used to the limited comfort by now, but tonight the air was more bone-chilling that usual. 

“Chloe? What’s up?” 

“Could I listen to the song once more?”

Beca smiled, grateful for a break in her spiraling thoughts of survival and home and the cold. “Course.” She patted the spot next to her, because she was somewhat comfortable and didn’t feel like moving. “Wanna lie down?” 

Chloe nodded after a beat of hesitation, sitting, then laying down next to Beca while Beca fiddled with her iPod in the dark and attempted to untangle her earbuds. She struggled to do so because of her freezing fingers and Chloe gently pried them away from her hands, offering Beca one ear bud before handing the device back to her so she could press play. As the acoustic guitar filtered out of the iPod, Beca felt Chloe’s hand slip next to her and it wasn’t long before Beca drifted off to sleep, soothed by the warmth and close proximity of the elf. 

/ 

Three days. Three days they had been hiking knee-deep in the snow.

A bunch of birds -- spies of Saruman, the Bad Guy™, who wasn’t always bad, from what Beca understood from Gandalf's tales -- flew overhead while they were making for the south passage, which prompted Gandalf to change tactics and take the Pass of Caradhras. 

They had left Imladris over a month ago, walking an average of ten miles every day, sometimes at night if they found themselves passing through a risky area. 

Beca was surprisingly still alive. She still had no clue as to why she was here, but managed to let it rest for now. 

“Frodo!” Beca turned around to see Frodo tumbling down a few feet before he was helped up by Aragorn. 

“The ring,” Frodo cried when he realized it wasn’t around his neck anymore and Beca watched from her spot just ahead of Boromir as the knight bent down to pick it up, something akin to awe flashing in his eye. 

He held it up, unblinking, entranced by the golden object. 

“Boromir,” Aragorn called out in warning. 

“It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing,” he murmured as Beca slowly approached. “Such a little thing…” 

Tired of his dramatics that were slowing them down, Beca rolled her eyes and strode over (well, as best as she could with that much snow), snatching it away from Boromir’s hold. “Frodo carries the ring.” 

Boromir seemingly snapped out of his daze, bowing his head in shame. Beca suddenly felt back about snapping. “Yes, of course.” 

“Here,” Beca handed the chain that carried the ring back to Frodo, who nodded in gratitude. Beca caught Aragorn’s raised eyebrow and surprised features before she turned back. 

“You’re not attracted to the ring,” Aragorn noted much later as they waited for Gandalf to remember the password which would grant them entry into the mines of Moria. They got stuck in a snow storm that wasn’t letting up and decided to switch itinerary once more, opting for the mines of Moria on Gimli’s advice. 

Beca looked up from her seated position on a rock, watching as Aragorn lowered himself down beside her. “You’re the first human I meet who is not attracted to its power.” 

“Yeah? Is that why I’m here?”

Aragorn stared at his folded hands, elbows propped on his knees. “I do not know. Perhaps.”

Beca nodded. If so, then it was most likely she would be stuck here until that ring got destroyed. 

“Or maybe it is simply a twist of fate and the fact that you come from a different world makes it so that the magic from Middle Earth doesn’t affect you.” 

Aragorn shot to his feet before Beca would answer, grabbing Pippin’s hand as he was about to throw a stone into the lake. 

“Do not disturb the water,” he ordered, his gaze observing the calm body of water. 

“It’s a riddle!” Frodo exclaimed, drawing Beca’s attention away from Aragorn. “Speak  _ friend  _ and enter. What is the elvish word for friend?” 

“Mellon,” A soon as Gandalf spoke the word, the stone divided into two doors, revealing the entrance of the mine. 

“Fucking  _ finally _ .” Beca pushed to her feet and followed the others inside. 

Or not. Taking a step into the mines was bone chilling. Beca felt the sudden need to clutch someone’s arm and let them shield her from any potential danger, but she sucked it up and squared her shoulders, because she was a tough bitch and some dumb  _ mine  _ wasn’t going to mess with her. She still stuck close to Chloe’s back, resisting the urge to curl her fingers into her cloak for anchor. 

Gandalf’s staff emitted a low light, bathing their surroundings in a pale glow. 

“This is no mine,” Boromir muttered, eyes flickering to the ground covered in corpses. “It’s a tomb!” 

“Jesus Christ,” Beca whispered, swallowing thickly as she realized she was about to step on a skull. She blanched, freezing immediately for fear of shattering any bones. 

“No,” Gimly croaked, shaking his head as he rushed to one of the long-decomposed bodies. Beca had understood that those mines had been built by the dwarves and some of these bodies might be of his family. “No.” 

Beca’s heart lurched as she heard the dwarf’s despair; she couldn’t imagine how devastating it must be to find what was once a home to your own kin filled with their cadavres. 

“Goblins,” Legolas hissed as he pulled an arrow from one of the skeletons. That piece of information made everyone pull out their respective weapons. 

“Goblins?” Beca echoed with slightly wide eyes, fumbling to take out her sword.  _ God, _ she would already be dead had those… goblins jumped them before now. “What the fuck are goblins?” 

“Spawns of the Devil,” Boromir seethed beside her, fists clenched in anger. “We should have never come here. Let’s make for the gap of Rohan!” 

“Strider!” Sam’s voice made them all spin around to see Frodo being dragged away by some sort of tentacle. “Mr. Frodo!” Sam’s shout was laced with fear, prompting each member of the fellowship to reach the entrance quickly. 

Beca came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening as she watched Frodo being swung back and forth five feet from the ground by a huge tentacle rising from the water. 

“What the fuck!” She muttered, eventually snapping out of her daze when the others ran past her to deal with the giant octopus. Or the kraken. She couldn’t be sure; she had never encountered a kraken before. 

“Help!” The hobbit cried out, trying in vain to untighten the creature’s hold around his waist while Aragorn and Boromir attempted to cut down the other tentacles slithering out of the water. 

Beca yelped when one of its disgusting, slimy tentacles made a move to grab her leg, dodging out of the way. “You filthy, disgusting bastard,” she rose her sword and bent her knees slightly, ready to attack. An arrow zoomed past her, lodging itself in the kraken’s head, followed by a handful more. She glanced over her shoulder to see Chloe and Legolas perched on rocks, relentless in their attack as they shot arrow after arrow, their quiver curiously never running out. 

“Lady Beca! Look out!” She heard Sam’s warning, thanks to which she was able to raise her sword higher above her head and swiftly slash one the tentacles off before it could snatch her. Something green and slimy spurted out, landing onto her beloved boots. The beast trashed in fury, soaking them in cold, murky water as it finally released Frodo after being shot in the head by a series of arrows. 

“Into the mines!” Gandalf shouted. “Hobbits! Quickly now! Go back into the mines!” 

“Yep, smart idea,” Beca muttered to herself as she ran backwards, nearly tripping as she kept eyes set on the monster. “Get away from the door!” She shouted as the tentacles seemed to reach in, ready to snag a hobbit for its meal. 

The door collapsed behind them, plunging them into darkness. Beca shivered from the icy water seeping into her clothing and glanced around, noting each one of her companions was in the same state. Her heart was still hammering in her ears and her chest rising up and down as she fought to catch her breath.

We now have but one choice...we must face the long dark of Moria.” Gandalf’s tone is grim. "Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world." 

Beca shivered, though it wasn’t from the cold this time. Orcs. She remembered them and how terrifying they looked from her first few minutes in Middle Earth. She knew deep down dealing with them would be inevitable, but she was hoping it wouldn’t be right away. 

“Quietly, now. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed.” Gandalf turned back onwards, his staff being their only source of light. 

Swallowing thickly, Beca followed on shaky legs, ears and eyes acute for anything which belonged to the abnormal, her fingers never letting go of the hilt of her sword. 

Something told her these were going to be four never-ending days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making up some of Chloe's abilities/powers since she's a special elf in my head. Hope the LOTR fans reading this don't mind it!


	6. Into the Mines of Moria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, this was a monster to write. I've never written a battle scene before so it might be crap, idk. Hope you enjoy it anyways
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the dialogue I borrowed from the LOTR script.

They hiked through that dreadful, sinister place for days. Well, Beca wasn’t sure how much time had passed; it was hard to have an accurate idea of the hours ticking by when only darkness surrounded them. Sleep had been scarce, as they all rested with one eye open, ready to defend themselves if the goblins or orcs or whatever other monster living in those minds decided to attack. 

They were progressing rather quickly on that fourth of fifth morning, until Gandalf abruptly stopped in front of a three passages, each disappearing into dark tunnels. 

“I have no memory of this place,” the Wizard scratched his beard, leaning on his staff. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, eyes following Beca’s movements as she paced in a small circle while Gandalf mumbled to himself. Pippin was telling Merry he was hungry enough for a second breakfast, Frodo looked tired and pitiful, Sam was nodding off while Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir spoke among themselves in hushed tones. 

Coming to a stop, Beca sat down with her knees bent, toes tapping on the ground in agitation. “I don’t like the dark,” she eventually admitted. Chloe stifled a laugh, sobering up when Beca cut her a glare and shoved her shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me. I feel like something is going to come out and jump us.” 

“If it does, I’ll protect you,” Chloe’s words, spoken so naturally, caused a wave of warmth to sweep over Beca, goosebumps pebbling in its wake. 

She snickered and rolled her eyes, recovering from that odd reaction as she puffed out her chest. “Alright, alright, tone down the knight in shining armor act, Elf. I can defend myself. I slayed a fucking kraken earlier, mind you.” 

“I know. I was there. Very impressive.” Chloe smirked. “You must have had a good teacher.” 

Beca squinted, a smirk of her own tickling the corners of her lips. “Tone down the smugness, it doesn’t suit you.” 

Gandalf seemed to remember the path before Chloe could quip something back and they continued onwards, the chill Beca first experienced upon stepping inside the mine sweeping over her with more intensity. They went up a steep stair, passing through a dwarf cemetery with its graves despoiled, dwarfs skeletons strewn everywhere. 

They soon came upon a large empty hall, its vast roof upheld by rows of pillows hewn of stone. 

“Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!” Gandalf introduced, his staff emitting more light so they could see it better. 

“Holy shit,” Beca breathed out, craning her neck to see how high it reached. Her companions were in equal states of awe, each one glancing up to the seemingly never-ending ceiling. They progressed slowly, their footsteps light and cautious.

Ahead of them, a door had been smashed, black arrows embedded in its timber. 

“Oh!” Gimli rushed ahead, breaking into a hasty run. 

“Gimli!” Gandalf hissed but the dwarf didn’t stop, the rest of the fellowship following in concern. They found him on his knees, wailing by a stone table in the centre of the chamber. The room was lit by a beam of sunlight pouring in from a small hole in the roof. A well stood in the corner and more dwarf skeletons lay on the floor. 

“‘Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria.’” Gandalf read, bowing his head in respect or defeat, Beca couldn't really tell. “He is dead, then. It's as I had feared.”

Beca faltered near the doorway, her heart clenching in her chest as the dwarf grieved a family member. She watched as Gandalf picked up a tattered old book from the ground and opened it to a random page. 

Next to Beca, Legolas looked agitated, nervous, almost. “We must move on, we cannot linger.” He whispered urgently to Aragorn, who nodded in agreement. Beca’s fingers found the hilt of her sword once more out of reflex. 

“... A shadow moves in the dark. Will no- one save us? They are coming." Gandalf raised his eyes from the word to share a somber look with Aragorn and Beca found herself swallowing thickly, nerves tickling her limbs. 

A shadow? What did that mean??

As everyone else, she failed to see Pippin backing away towards the well and the skeleton hazardously perched upon it falling in. The eleven of them froze in stunned silent for a few beats during which Beca held her breath. The heavy clatter of the bones at the bottom echoed throughout the chamber and most likely throughout the great hall, without a doubt alerting the creatures lurking in the shadows of their presence. 

Gandalf whirled around sharply towards the hobbit who had guilt written all over his features. “Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!” 

The first beats of a drum turned Beca’s blood cold. It grew louder and more intense, followed by deafening shrieks. 

“Orcs!” Cried Legolas as Boromir rushed to the entrance to take a peek outside at what was coming. Beca started to back up, fear gripping her stomach. A few arrows whizzed just past Boromir’s face and etched themselves in the timber. 

“Get back!” Aragorn shouted to the hobbits. “Stay close to Gandalf!”

Beca followed the command as well. She might not have been as tiny as them hobbits but she could use Gandalf’s protection. 

“They’ve got a cave troll,” Boromir muttered with a  _ of  _ ** _course_ ** _ they fucking do  _ sort of tone as he and Aragorn pushed the doors shut, solidifying their only barrier with two bardiche spears wedged across. 

A cave troll?! Beca had no idea what it looked like but something told her it did  _ not _ sound good. 

“Oh fuck,” she breathed, pulling out her sword and raising it out in front of her as the first blows landed on the door from the other side.

This was it. Nevermind the kraken. This was the real shit she had been trained for; this was her baptism of fire. 

Gimli snatched two rusty dwarves axes from the ground and climbed on top of the stone tomb. Unlike Beca, he was battle-savvy. “Let them come! There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!”

A hole was soon formed by the sharp blades of axes. Chloe and Legolas shot arrows through it, killing a couple of the first wave of assailants. The doors burst open a few beats later and about twenty awful-looking creatures (goblins? orcs? Beca wasn’t sure but it didn’t really matter -- she knew they were on the evil side) charged towards armed to the teeth. 

She blocked an incoming attack from one of those ugly beasts, grunting as she pushed him back with a strength she could only attribute to the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Without giving it the chance to retaliate, Beca drove her blade into its stomach and drew it back immediately, watching it drop to the ground as a sense of satisfaction and badassery like she had never experienced before bloomed in her chest.

She didn’t notice the ground had started shaking until a giant, motherfucking terrifying troll rounded the corner, holding a medieval club covered in spiky things that could probably wipe out an enemy with one clean blow. 

“Holy shit,” it took everything in Beca not to run and hide into a corner to wait it out. She swallowed her nerves as she blinked up at the bulky monster. “What the  _ fuck _ am I doing here.”

The orc holding onto the troll by a leash was killed with an arrow shot by Chloe in the next few seconds. No longer held, the troll pivoted to its left, interested in Sam. The hobbit cowered away in fear, and Beca watched as the massive troll lifted its foot to crush him. 

“Sam!” She sprang into action, taking hold of the troll's leash and pulling as hard as she could, soon helped by Boromir to wrench the troll away from the defenseless hobbit. The troll retaliated by hitting Boromir with a clean swing of its club, sending the knight up a few feet in the air and hard into the opposite wall. He fell to the ground with a grunt and Beca thought for a second he was dead. Boromir coughed and shook his head to get rid of the dizziness, unable to see the orc nearby ready to deliver the final blow behind him. 

“Boromir!” Beca shouted, seizing the blade strapped to her thigh and throwing it with force and precision into the orc’s neck. It stumbled back, grunting as it fell to the ground. Boromir’s jaw hung open in shock and he gave Beca a grateful nod. Beca nodded back, herself completely stunned that she managed  _ that. _ “Don’t mention it, dude.”

The next few minutes were utter chaos. The others, including the four hobbits, were slaying enemies left and right. For the first time since she had met him, Beca saw Aragorn act as the incredible, terrifying warrior she had heard about. Chloe and Legolas focused on the troll, attempting to take it down with their arrows, while the rest of the fellowship fought against those filthy orcs and goblins. 

“Lady Beca, behind you!” She heard Merry cry out and spun around to see a motherfucking orc right  _ there _ , baring its disgusting teeth into a devilish smirk.

"Hello, pretty girl."

A raw, nearly animalistic cry ripped from Beca's vocal cords as she drove her sword into its throat, black blood spraying all over her tunic. She looked down at herself, nose wrinkling in disgust.  “ _ Gross _ .” 

She blocked another sword coming from her right, but a rookie mistake on her end gave the orc the chance to knock her weapon out of her reach. 

“Oooooh,  _ shit.  _ Shit, shit, shit.” Beca had used her extra knife to save Boromir and was now weaponless. She shrieked and dodged the orc’s sword swinging at her legs, glancing to the ground for some sort of tool to defend herself as she backed away. The only thing within her reach was the freaking rusted saucepan Sam was using earlier and she lunged for it, slamming it into the side of her enemy’s head with so much force she pulled a muscle in her shoulder. The orc swayed in its spot before falling to the ground. “Handy.” Beca picked up her abandoned sword in the next beat to drive it into its neck in a quick execution. 

Despite the numerous deaths, orcs and goblins kept coming at them from god knows where and Beca had no idea when or even if it was ever going to end. Maybe when they were all dead. She could feel her strength lessening, but the crazy amount of adrenaline made her keep going. 

It’s not like she was going to stop anyway, it was literally a life or death scenario here. She  _ had _ to stay alive. 

“Uh, could use a little help here!” she shouted to her companions when she somehow found herself surrounded by three orcs who looked thirsty for blood. One of them lunged forward to stab her, but she managed to block the attack with her sword and swiftly stabbed it through the chest over her next move. Boromir appeared out of fucking nowhere, his shield in front of him as he rammed into the second orc’s side and executed it while Beca took care of the third. 

He grinned at Beca, blowing his hair out of his eyes as he patted her shoulder. “I’ve got your back, too.” 

One glance up told Beca Chloe and Legolas were still handling the orc, Legolas playing the freaking equilibrist on the troll’s shoulders as he aimed arrows at its head. Meanwhile, Chloe shot arrows into his chest when she wasn’t busy stabbing orcs every two seconds like the badass, flawless warrior she was. The troll was too big and strong for those arrows meant for smaller creatures and managed to knock Legolas off its back.

“Frodo!” Her gaze snapped to Aragorn, expecting to see the ringbearer near him. The troll was still swinging blows from left to right, and Beca realized it was after Frodo, who was scurrying away. Aragorn looked like he wanted to fly to his aid, but too many orcs were blocking his path. Beca and Boromir hurried to his side to fight them back, giving him the chance to focus on Frodo. Frodo was the priority, the most valuable member of the fellowship.   


Block and parry. Beca chanted the two words in her head to remain focused despite the dizzying spell she was experiencing from the exhaustion. Block and parry. Everything around her faded away, the sounds of swords knocking together, the animalistic grunts, the cries for help. She could only hear her own heartbeat and chopped breath as she sliced one orc after another on autopilot mode. She caught a few scrapes and blows, but kept fighting until it seemed like they had reached the end of the battle, except for the troll.   


When the last orc in sight fell to the ground, Beca looked around her to do a headcount of her companions, only to realize the hobbits had gone full berserker mode on the troll, climbing on it and throwing rocks at it. Her eyes flickered to Frodo, who lay in a heap on the ground, which would explain his friend's sudden bravery. Beca swallowed. Had he been  _ killed _ ? She didn’t have time to go to him, the troll swaying back and forth soon after Legolas delivered a fatal arrow into its mouth, threatening to flatten her out like a crepe in its fall if she moved a foot. 

It toppled in the next handful of seconds, dead. 

Beca and her companions stood still, stunned, all eyes set on Frodo as he lay still. 

Frodo had been killed. The Ring Bearer, the only one who could carry the Ring to Mordor and fulfill the mission was _dead_.   


A handful of never-ending seconds later, Frodo drew a sharp breath. 

They rushed over, the three hobbits falling to their knees by their friend. 

“He’s alive!” Sam choked up, the emotion leaking in his tone. 

“I'm alright. I'm not hurt.” Frodo murmured, blinking up at them. More words of disbelief and confusion as to how he survived the injury of that spear were spoken, until Frodo opened his shirt to reveal what had protected him. A sort of shiny, bullet proof vest worn under his clothing must have prevented the spear from piercing his body. 

“What the heck is this?” Beca asked quietly. 

Gimli gasped next to her. “Mithril! You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.”

The bone-chilling sound of drums robbed them of their reprieve now that the flock of orcs and goblins had been taken care of. 

Gandalf turned to the rest of the fellowship. Beca caught a glimpse of the panic swirling in his eyes. “To the bridge of Khazad-dum!” He led them out of the chamber and back down the massive hall. Despite the low light, Beca could see creatures crawling along the pillars like cockroaches. There were  _ hundreds  _ of them . The eleven companions were soon surrounded by an army of bloodthirsty creatures and Beca let out a whimper, her free hand shooting out to grasp Chloe’s wrist. 

She didn’t want to die like this, in an abandoned mine to the hands of those filthy beasts. 

A deep growl echoed from the end of the hall before any of them could attack and the goblins scurried away to where they came from, shreeking in fright.

Beca swallowed thickly. Something bigger awaited them, something that they might not be able to vanquish with their swords and knives and bows. 

The shadow moving in the dark. 

“What is this new devilry?” Boromir whispered to Gandalf. Beca glanced around to see that matching fright had swept over her companions’ features as they stared into the glowing orange light growing in front of them towards the end of the hall, like a giant ball of fire that would wipe them all out in one blow. 

"A Balrog." Gandalf replied somberly as the growl grew louder,  _ closer. _ “a demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!” 

Nobody asked questions. They all took off in a sprint and Beca forgot about the exhaustion and the painful strain in her muscles as her legs carried her as fast as they could, _faster _than they ever had. Aragorn took the lead down a massive stairway. Lava bubbled a hundred of feet below them, its heat sweeping over Beca’s sweaty cheeks. A chunk of stone was missing from their only path, meaning they would have to jump to the other side. 

Legolas and Chloe easily leapt across with their catlike springs and Chloe turned, gesturing in a beckoning motion. “Come on, I’ll catch you.” 

Beca had also extreme fear of height, but now wasn’t the time to really hesitate when they were being pursued by a freaking underground fire demon. She jumped and landed not so gracefully in Chloe’s arms, her hair getting into Chloe’s face and mouth. Chloe set her down as Legolas caught Gandalf, and as though the Balgor wasn’t enough of a concern, a rain of arrows came pouring down upon them from the higher levels of the mines. 

Chloe spun around and started shooting arrow after arrow at their invisible attackers as Beca and Legolas helped the others jump across. Another chunk of stone crumbled away, widening the gap. Aragorn had no choice but to toss Sam to the other side and into Boromir’s arms, ready to do the same with the master dwarf, who held up his hand. 

“Nobody tosses a dwarf!” Gimli objected. Beca would have laughed if they weren’t in such imminant risk of dying, biting her tongue to keep from yelling at Gimli to hurry the fuck up, then. He jumped, falling short of a few inches and forcing Legolas to pull him up by his long ginger beard so he didn’t teeter over the edge. “Not the beard!” 

Once they all made it to the other side, they hurried towards the bridge, Gandalf bringing up the rear. “Over the bridge!” He shouted, lingering behind as the demon came out of the shadows. Beca chanced a look over her shoulder as they ran, immediately wishing she hadn’t. A great forty foot half man, half… bull with a mane of flame chased after them, the ground shaking with each one of its steps. They finally reached the bridge, which was so narrow they had to go over it in line. 

“You cannot pass!” Gandalf roared. Once over the bridge, the rest of the fellowship glanced back to realize that Gandalf had stopped in the middle of it, staring up at the beast towering over him. The Baldor held a sword and a whip, both on fire as well. 

What the  _ fuck _ was he doing. 

“Gandalf!” Frodo cried desperately as though asking himself the same question as Beca. Gandalf mumbled a sort of incantation, raising his staff to block the slash of the Baldor’s sword, which shattered into fragments. 

“You shall not pass!” Gandalf yelled to the top of his lungs without fear or hesitation, striking his staff on the bridge. The bridge collapsed where the Balrod stood, crumbling beneath its feet and sending it into a several hundred feet fall. 

The anxiety left Beca’s body in one big puff of air as Gandalf started to retreat to safety. The relief was however, short lived. While falling, the Balrod must have cracked its whip, which end lashed up to wrap around Gandalf’s ankle, making him stumble and dragging him over the brink. Gandalf barely managed to hold onto the edge, the rest of his body hanging over the cliff. 

Frodo bolted to try and come to the wizard’s aid, but Boromir held him tightly back. 

“Fly you fools!” 

Those were Gandalf’s final words before he let go of his grip, following the Balrod to his own end. 

Beca stumbled backward in shock, but Aragorn ushered them to keep going. They couldn't linger here, they needed to get out of the mines. Beca followed mindlessly, letting her legs do the work. They eventually tumbled out through a gate onto a grass hillside. Beca had to blink to get used to the sudden sunlight after four days spent without seeing it. 

The hobbits fell to the ground, each one of them sobbing with grief. 

Beca felt numb, out of life after what she had witnessed. She wanted to do the same as the hobbits and curl into a ball until she fell asleep. They just  _ left  _ him. They left Gandalf to his death.  Tears gathered in her own eyes. She didn’t know Gandalf that well, but he was their companion; their leader. Without him and his guidance, they were probably doomed. 

Chloe stood next to her, the streaks of smoke on her cheeks shining with the thin layer of sweat sticking to her skin. Strands of hair had escaped from her neat braid during battle and her gaze was stoic as it stared into the distance. Her jaw was set, the only indication that she was fighting to not let her own emotions get the upper hand over her duty. 

Beca stepped closer and slid her hand into hers, giving it a soft squeeze. Chloe had been her rock until now; it was only fair for Beca to try and be hers. The contact drew a glance from Chloe, whose features loosened and gaze softened as she squeezed back, lacing her fingers with Beca's.  


“Get them up!” Aragorn shouted, sheathing his sword. 

“Give them a moment...for pity's sake!” Boromir argued, his words choked up as though he was on the verge of crying. 

“By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!” Aragorn shouted, the despair evident in his voice. “We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Get them up. On your feet, Sam.” 

Beca reluctantly let go of Chloe’s hand to help Pippin to his feet. 

Never mind the tears, hurting muscles and aching spirits; they had no choice but to keep going, for the sake of Middle-Earth and its people.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: some downtime for the fellowship in Lothlorien where Beca will learn more about elves, horse riding and... grow closer to a certain redhead ;)


	7. Some Rest At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Translation:

They ran for hours, through plains and creeks as the sun began to set behind the horizon. They had to get to safety before darkness fell upon them. Beca’s legs were aching, muscles she didn’t even know existed screaming for a break. The hobbits were lagging behind, their tiny strides unable to match the ones of grown men. 

“Come on, quickly,” Aragorn pressed, the concern on his face so unusual that Beca didn’t argue or whine. She could tell Gandalf’s death made their already perilous journey near impossible. They were probably doomed without Gandalf's guidance.   


“The hobbits can’t run any faster, Aragorn!” Boromir hissed as they came to a stop. Beca looked for any source of water, finding none. Their water sacks were long empty after four days in the mine, and her mouth felt drier than the Sahara desert. 

“We’ll carry them, then.” Aragorn gave his pack to Gimli and Beca offered to take Boromir’s while Chloe shrugged on Legolas’. 

“I can keep going,” Sam stated. Beca couldn’t carry him and nor could Chloe or Gimli while keeping up with the pace. His head bobbed up and down in insistance. “I’m okay.” 

They reached the woods perhaps an hour later, slowing down to a walk now that they were shileded by the trees. The ten of them rushed to the closest stream, each of them in dire need of water. It didn’t matter that it was next to freezing; Beca splashed some on her face first to get rid of the grimness of the mines sticking to her skin, then washed her hands and cupped more water, swallowing in large gulps. She filled her water sack and slung it over her torso, wiping her mouth with her forearm. The motion made her hiss as a sharp pain radiated from her shoulder and down her arm. 

Fucking orcs. 

“Are you alright?” Beca really wasn’t surprised that Chloe noticed. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, offering a weak smile. “I hurt my shoulder during battle.” 

Concern flashed in Chloe’s eyes. “I will take a look when we reach our destination.” 

“Thanks, Chlo.” 

They resumed walking after a minute, cautiously, following Aragorn’s careful step. 

“Stay close, young hobbits… they say a Sorceress lives in these woods. An elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell…” Gimli warned, ushering them to walk in front of him as he held onto his axe. Beca rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!”

Beca stifled a snicker and glanced to Chloe, who also looked like she was holding back giggles. Her smile vanished from her face in the next beat, stopping to an abrupt halt when she realized an arrow was pointed straight at her face. 

Fuck those elves and their ability to move in complete silence even on dead leaves; they nearly gave Beca a heart attack. Even Chloe and Legolas were quiet as fuck, drawing their bows without Beca noticing. About ten elves surrounded the members of the fellowship and a lean, blonde haired one stepped forward. 

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." 

Ouch. Burn. 

Gimli grumbled but didn’t say anything, for which Beca was grateful. She really had had her share of fighting to last her for a few days. Aragorn started speaking in Elvish, to Beca’s surprise. She wasn't aware he knew the language. 

“Aragorn!” Gimli shouted. “These woods are perilous. We should go back.”

Beca was conflicted. She didn’t feel those elves either, but then again, turning back meant putting themselves in even more danger, especially with night settling in. 

“You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Woods. You cannot go back.” The chief addressed Gimli. 

Well, that settled it. 

She wondered who the Lady of the Woods was, but didn't dare ask as she felt like her ignorance would only rise suspicion and she could really go without being seen as an enemy here. 

“Come,” the elf’s gaze moved to Frodo, who visibly shrunk from its seriousness. “She’s waiting.” 

The arrows lowered and only then could Beca breathe properly. They continued in a line, hiking through the woods for another hour, until the leader (Haldir, if she heard correctly) came to a stop and turned to address them all. 

“We shall rest here for the night. We will continue onwards at sunrise.” He commanded something in Elvish next and a ladder dropped from the tree next to him. Beca looked up and realized a platform had been built around the trunk. They climbed up one by one and while the construction appeared sketish from down below, it seemed able to hold all of them. Legolas and Aragorn exchanged in Elvish with Haldir while the rest of the Fellowship settled down, each one of them adorning worn-out features. 

“How come Aragorn speaks Elvish?” Beca spoke up after a minute or two, twisting her head towards Chloe who had settled down beside her. The chill of the night had crept up into her bones and she wished she had another change of clothes than her sweat soaked ones. 

Chloe was re-braiding her hair neatly and Beca found herself distracted by her pointy ears. “He was raised by Elves.” 

“Oh,” Beca nodded slowly, eyes flickering to the trio once more before focusing back on Chloe. “Could you teach me? I don’t want to be so oblivious all the time.” 

Chloe smiled, tying the end of her braid with a piece of leather.  _ “Mae g'ovannen, Beca. Im Lostariel.”  _

Beca blinked. She never imagined a foreign language would sound so sexy. Blush crept up on her cheeks when she processed her thoughts and she cleared her throat. The chill disappeared, chased away by a wave of warmth which pooled in her belly. “What does that mean?” 

“It’s Sindarin for ‘nice to meet you, Beca. I am Lostariel.” She slowly repeated it in Elvish and Beca tried it, switching the names. “Not bad.” 

“Thanks.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you prefer I call you Chloe or Lostariel?” 

“Chloe is good. You’re the only who does and I like that.” She broke eye contact then, seemingly growing timid. 

Beca grinned endearingly. Chloe was the epitome of adorable when she got bashful. “How would you say… go kiss an orc?” 

Chloe frowned heavily and her mouth moved wordlessly for a few beats as confusion settled in her gaze. “Why -- why would you want to say that? Orcs are filthy, heartless creatures.” 

Beca full belly laughed, as silently as she could not to draw too much attention to herself. She reached up to wipe a tear pearling at the corner of her eye. “No, no. Sorry. It’s an expression to let someone know you’re tired of them and you want them to go away. Like uh, be gone, but meaner.” 

“Oh.” 

“Fuck no, I don’t want to be anywhere near orcs again if I can help it,” she shuddered at the memory of one of them calling her ‘pretty girl’. 

“You did really good out there.” Chloe’s tone carried undeniable pride and Beca felt her chest soar. She wasn’t proud of killing all those creatures, despite knowing they were evil. She would forever have their blood on her hands. She guessed feeling that way was normal, it was part of being human. “You alright?” 

Beca shrugged. “It feels weird, knowing that I killed so many of them. I don’t like it.” 

Chloe nodded and she looked as though she knew what Beca was going through. “If you liked it, you wouldn’t be different from those orcs who find pleasure in taking lives. I don’t like it either, but I think about the lives I saved and it makes my act meaningful.” 

Beca pondered on that for a little while. “Yeah, I guess you're right."  


The elves of Lórien came back from god knows where with blankets, pillows and food, passing them around before leaving. Their leader left as well, announcing he would return at sunrise. Beca guessed he slept on another platform, perhaps one above them so he or one of his men could keep watch if they dared make an escape. 

“Are we prisoners, Aragorn?” Merry asked a minute later as they ate. 

Aragorn shook his head. “No, Merry. We’re not prisoners. The elves of Lórien do not trust strangers, but Lady Galadriel is expecting us and will guide us towards the next step of our journey. We shall all rest tonight. We’re safe in these trees, I promise.”

Aragorn’s reassurance seemed to bring relief to each one of them. After dinner -- a warm soup and some bread that filled Beca with just a few bites, Beca attempted to take off her tunic, stained and stinking with orc blood. She struggled with her shoulder, once more catching Chloe’s concern. 

The elf knelt by her other side and reached in her pack for a small wooden box. “Where does it hurt?” 

Beca pointed to the spot where her shoulder met her arm. “I think I pulled something when I hit an orc with that saucepan. Handy weapon, though.” 

Chloe giggled and rubbed some sort of paste on Beca’s shoulder. Her touch was warm and soothing, ridding Beca of that chill. She wondered why it felt that way every time Chloe touched her; if it was because she was some sort of special elf with magical healing powers or if it had to do with their connection. “This is from a plant called athelas. It helps with inflammation of any kind.” 

Beca nodded. “It already feels less painful.” 

“Good,” she fished into her pack once more, pulling out two large leaf and placing them over the paste as some sort of dressing. Beca’s eyes fell to the pendant around Chloe’s neck. She had seen it before, but never so closely as it was usually hidden by her cloak. It reminded Beca of a celtic symbol, with a moon stone tucked in the middle. Chloe noticed she was looking at it. “It’s called  _ Alvalara _ . A pendant that’s been passed onto the females elves of my bloodline for millenials. It’s an amulet against evil.” 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Chloe simply smiled and tugged Beca’s shirt back over her shoulder once she was done. She excused herself to tend to the others’ wounds and Beca got settled in the meantime, laying down on the platform. It wasn’t the best sleeping surface, but there were no rocks and the blankets they were given were heavy and warm, providing much needed comfort after four days spent in those cold, dreadful mines. Plus, her stomach felt full and that was a luxury these days.   


She tucked a hand behind her head as she laid on her back, gazing up at the stars peeking out between the leaves. Chloe soon settled next to her for the night and Beca’s stomach fluttered at the realization that they always ended up sleeping next to one another. 

“It’s the same stars as in my world,” Beca whispered when she spotted Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. “That’s kinda weird.” 

Chloe turned on her side, cradling the side of her face in her propped-up palm. “Can you tell me more about your world?” 

Beca cocked a curious eyebrow as she mirrored Chloe’s position, making sure to keep her injured shoulder still. The rest of their companions were quiet, except for Gimli’s loud snoring. “What do you wanna know?” 

“What’s different from here?” Huh, where to begin. “How do you get from one place to another? On foot or on horses? Do you have horses?”

Beca chuckled. “We do have horses but they’re mostly used for leisure and not transport. About a hundred and fifty years ago, someone invented another mode of transport that we call a car. It’s an object made out of steel that has an engine that makes it move forward on its own. We only have to sit behind a wheel and steer it for directions. We can go slower or faster with pedals.” 

“Does it go faster than a horse?” 

Chloe’s curious eyes were captivating, drawing Beca out of focus for a beat or two. 

“Yeah, much faster.” 

“What else?” 

Chloe’s undeniable interest made Beca grin. “Um, we have electricity. We can walk into a room and flick something on the wall and it brings light.” 

Chloe frowned. “But how? With magic?” 

Beca snickered. “No, we don’t have magic in our world,” Well, maybe to Chloe it  _ was  _ magic. 

“Your moving box sounds like magic to me. And that thing you make music with.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“What about that ink on your body?” Chloe asked next. “Are they important symbols to your kin?” Her eyes widened the second the question was posed. “Forgive me, I’m prying.” 

“No, no it’s okay,” Beca laughed. She figured Chloe had seen her headphones tattoo and her grasshopper. “They’re not particular symbols. In my world, people get anything they like inked on their bodies.” She rolled up her sleeve, exposing her headphones. “I got this because music is what I’m passionate about and I want to write songs to earn money. And I got the grasshopper because my mother used to call me her grasshopper. She died when I was fourteen.” 

Chloe nodded slowly, empathy flashing in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

Beca smiled sadly. She never spoke about her mom, simply because she didn’t share about herself much. “Thanks. It was a long time ago. And I know she’s with me in spirit, always.” 

Chloe smiled and remained silent for a few beats. “How’s your shoulder?” 

“It’s okay. The thing you put on it really helped.” 

Chloe nodded. “You do need rest, though. Hopefully we’ll get to stay in Lothlorien for a few days.” 

Beca wondered what Aragorn’s plan was, now that Gandalf was gone. “You think we’ll have a real bed?” 

“I doubt they’ll leave us to sleep on the ground,” Chloe assured. Beca nodded, stifling a yawn. “You should sleep.” 

She was indeed very tired, but… “ What if I fall over the edge while I’m sleeping?” She didn’t know exactly how high they were, but enough that she really didn’t want to take a peek and check. 

“Come here,” Chloe opened her arm and Beca hesitated for a small stretch before she shuffled closer, right against Chloe’s side, using Chloe's arm as a pillow. Warmth spread through her once more. “Now you’re safe.” 

Beca rolled her eyes playfully, but her nerves did vanish. “You really can’t resist the elf in shining armor act, can you?” 

“I’m not sure what that means.” 

"Nevermind."

Despite the battle, Chloe still smelled heavenly, a mix of flowers that Beca couldn’t identify. Beca abruptly got self-conscious because she probably reeked of sweat, but sleep was too insistent for her to give a real care. 

“How do you say goodnight in Elvish?” 

_ “Losto vae.”  _

“ _ Losto vae,  _ Chloe.” Beca whispered, tucking the blanket tighter around her as her eyes slid shut. She registered Chloe's voice right before slipping into the arms of Morpheus.   


_ “Losto vae, Beca. Oltho vae ne fuin hen, meleth nîn.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:   
Oltho vae ne fuin hen, meleth nîn: sweet dreams, my love
> 
> Chloe's [pendant](https://s3-us-east-2.amazonaws.com/newskelligmedialibrary/app/uploads/2019/03/11154308/S46132-745x1024.jpg) but with a moonstone


	8. Galadriel's Mirror

Beca slept better that night than she had in weeks, and she was fooling herself trying to find another reason for that besides Chloe and her soothing aura. Her growing attraction and craving for affection when it came to the elf was steadily becoming harder to ignore. In short, she was crushing hard. 

Her shoulder was better too, thanks to Chloe’s knowledge and care. 

The elves of Lorien provided them with breakfast as well and the company set off as agreed right after sunrise towards Lothlorien. Beca felt protected enough, surrounded by her friends and the dozen of elves warriors making the journey with them, to enjoy the changing scenery instead of having to be a hundred percent aware of any potential danger around her. 

After many hours of hiking through the woods, Haldir led them to a hill top, and Beca had to pick her jaw off the ground as she took in the sight before her. Mallorn Trees stood tall and proud, higher than any trees Beca had ever seen, easily reaching as high as the skyscrapers in America. They bore leaves of different shades; green, golden and silver, shining in the late afternoon sunlight. 

“The Beautiful City,” Aragorn breathed beside her, awe sweeping over his own features. “ _ Caras Galadhon _ .” 

As they approached the heart of the city, Beca could feel her surroundings change. Everything seemed older; sacred. They climbed up a steep, staircase winding around a tree trunk, the path lit by an array of lanterns strung up on the branches. Beca could hear a melody carrying from the trees above, both enchanting and haunting. They eventually reached a wide fleet filled with soft light and surrounded by green and silver walls, a golden roof standing above their heads. 

Two figures edged closer from the top of another staircase, bathed in a white glow. Beca squinted, only able to trace their features when they stopped ten feet away. A man and a woman stood before them. The man’s face was grave and beautiful and he bore long, silver hair. The woman, who Beca guessed was the Lady of the Woods, had hair of deep gold and timeless, unsurpassed beauty. 

“The enemy knows you have entered here,” the dude started, Beca swallowing thickly. Talk about a warm welcome. “What hope you had in secrecy is now gone.” 

Beca felt the weight of failure press heavily on her shoulders, adding to Gandalf’s loss. 

“Ten there are, yet eleven there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him.” 

The entire fellowship bowed their heads, features solemn. 

“Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land,” the Lady filled in when each of them remained silent, ashamed of having abandoned their friend to his death. Beca looked up towards her to find her gaze focused on Aragorn. It was as though she was reading his mind. “...he has fallen into shadow.”

_ “You will find your purpose here, Rebecca. If and when the task is completed, you’ll get to be with your loved ones.”  _

Beca’s head snapped up in wonder, trying to make sense of why she could hear the Lady in her mind. Was it… telepathy? How could she do that? What did it mean? Was she going to be stuck here if they failed? 

The fair elf spoke again before Beca could ponder more. 

“The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all...Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil.”

Beca didn’t need to be told twice. Her body was screaming for some rest after the day’s long hike to the City and she really didn’t feel like lingering near the Lady with the telepathy superpowers. 

She could handle orcs and sleeping on the ground but someone getting into her head? Hell no. 

Two elves led them to where they would stay, a pavilion with comfy looking lounging chairs to rest. They were brought food and wine and while everything looked tasty and made Beca’s stomach growl in hunger, what she was really craving was a long and hot shower. 

As thought reading her mind,  _ again, _ Lady Galadriel must have ordered for clean clothing to be brought to them. The elf spoke a foreign tongue, and Beca glanced at Chloe for translation. 

“She’s taking us to the baths.” 

Oh,  _ fuck _ yes. 

Beca hastily followed the woman down more stairs, realizing that only she and Chloe were going with her while the men were led elsewhere. She and Chloe were taken to a sort of indoor pool that served as a communal bath. Other elves were bathing or walking around stark naked, and Beca nearly tripped on her own feet when she stepped in.

They were all perfect, with fair and smooth skin and absolutely no body hair. Beca looked down at herself; she felt gross and hadn’t even undressed yet. 

“Um, is there anything more like… private?” She felt like an entitled asshole for asking but she was too self conscious to undress in front of these magnificent creatures. Chloe translated for her as the other elf (oh yes, she was flawless too in case you were wondering) didn’t speak the Common Tongue. 

“No, sorry. There’s a quiet corner over there, though,” Chloe tilted her head to the far corner, and Beca guessed she would have to make do anyway. 

“Okay,” Beca accepted the clean clothes from the elf, nodding her head in gratitude. “Hey, how do you say thank you in Sindarin?” She asked Chloe, who was already a few steps ahead of her. 

“ _ Hannon le _ ,” Chloe replied as she started unlacing her tunic. She stripped as though it was the most natural thing to do and Beca had to pick her jaw off the floor because Chloe was hands down the most perfect woman Beca had ever laid her eyes on. 

“Holy shit,” she breathed, licking her lips, tracing Chloe’s curves with her eyes until she caught herself. Chloe lowered herself in the pool, the bubbles covering her up. Beca flushed and moved towards the edge, kicking her boots off first, then sliding her pants down her legs. “Can you um, like… close your eyes?” 

“Do you want me to leave you alone? I can go to another corner of the bath.” 

“No, no. I’ll be fine once my most important bits are covered up with the bubbles.” 

A giggle flitted past Chloe’s lips. “You really do talk funny.” 

Beca groaned, giving the elf a heatless glare. “Chlo. Eyes closed, please?” 

“Right, right.” 

Once Beca was sure Chloe had them shut, she shed the rest of her clothing hastily and dipped into the water, holding back a moan at how good its warmth felt over her aching muscles. 

“Okay, you can open them now.” 

Chloe did in the next beat, a soft, apologetic smile gracing her features. “Forgive me. Bathing among other people is a common thing in elvish culture. Baring our bodies is not something we are shy of.” 

Beca rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Gee, I wonder why,” she grumbled. “Easy to do when you look like that.” 

Chloe grinned, arching an eyebrow. “When I look like that?” 

Blush swept over Beca’s cheeks once more. She shrugged, eyes flitting away from Chloe’s compelling gaze. “Y’know, beautiful and stuff.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her nose, dipping her head underwater in the next second to avoid catching Chloe’s reaction. 

They washed their hair in silence, Chloe stepping out and turning her back to Beca so Beca had some privacy to dry off and put on her clean clothes. 

On their way back to the pavilion, Beca’s step faltered when she caught sight of two female elves openly kissing by the side of the path. Chloe noticed and tilted her head to the side. “Is that not something common in your world either? Two females romantically involved?” 

Beca grimaced as they resumed walking. “No no, it’s a thing. But it’s still sometimes frowned upon by society. In some countries, laws even forbid same-sex love because their culture believes it’s wrong.” 

Chloe gasped. “Forbidden?” 

Beca nodded somberly. “Yeah. And even in places where it’s allowed, some people will harass a couple in the street if they hold hands or kiss in public.” 

“That’s terrible,” Chloe frowned heavily. “Here in the world of Elves, we are free to love whoever we want, and I believe it is the way it should be.” 

“So do I,” Beca murmured wishfully, sharing a sad smile with Chloe. 

Back at the pavilion, Beca ate enough to fall into a food coma. Dinner was delicious for once, better than what she had eaten in Middle Earth so far and the wine was so sweet that she drank it like orange juice. For the first time in a long time, she fell asleep with a full stomach, warm and clean. She woke up slightly disoriented, her body not completely wrecked from sleeping on the hard ground for once. The chambers were empty save for herself, and she briefly wondered where her companions had wandered off to. 

Where Chloe was, more precisely. The elf had been the main subject of Beca’s thoughts as of lately. Her developing crush for the redhead was both exciting and terrifying. 

Beca straightened and tested the rotation in her shoulder, happy to attest that the pain was completely gone. She dressed and shoved her feet into her boots before lacing them up, grabbing her sketchbook and a pen. Not quite hungry yet to get breakfast, Beca wandered around the City for a little while until she found a spot under a tree and settled down to draw her surroundings. She drew for hours, until...

_ Come, Rebecca, for I have much to show you.  _

It was that voice again. Lady Galadriel’s. Soft and smooth, yet haunting. 

She shook her head. She was surely hallucinating. Unfortunately, as much as this telepathy thing freaked her out, her curiosity was piqued. Maybe Galadriel would know why she ended up in Middle-Earth. After another beat of hesitation, Beca pushed to her feet and started up the path leading to the fair Lady. 

“Rebecca Mitchell,” Galadriel was standing by a shallow silver basin in which trickled a stream coming from the fountain further up the path. She wore a white gown, a crown entertwined in her hair. Beca bowed her head in respect. “Come closer, Rebecca, let me show you the answers that you seek.” 

Beca took a tentative step, then another. She couldn’t believe she might finally know why she was here after months spent wondering. 

Galadriel nodded towards the basin. “This here is the mirror of Galadriel. Look into it if you wish.” 

Beca hesitated. “What will it show me?” 

“Even the wisest cannot tell for the mirror shows many things... things that were... things that are... and some things that have not yet come to pass.”

Beca folded her trembling fingers into fists and took the remaining step. She glanced down, swallowing thickly. Her reflection stared back at her for a handful of seconds, the water rippling and morphing into another. A car rolling down a street. Jesse’s truck. Beca saw what happened next unfold as though she was a passerby. Another truck ran a stop sign and barreled into her side of the car. She emitted a loud gasp and her hand flew up to her mouth in shock. The scene faded to the paramedics’ arrival sometime later. Both she and Jesse were pulled out of the car and put onto stretchers then loaded into the back of ambulances. The mirror went black and for a moment Beca believed both she and Jesse were dead. The next scene opened on a hospital room. The Beca in the mirror lay in a bed, hooked to wires and machines with a tube down her throat. 

A man was pacing back in forth in front of the window. Her  _ dad _ . The scene switched to a similar one, only her dad sat by her bed holding her hand. Another one showed him changing the flowers by Beca’s bed. A last one with him crying by her bedside.

Then, the mirror faded to black and Beca felt tears gather in her eyes, blurring her vision. She thought her father  _ cared _ about her. She never thought… their relationship was flawed and he hadn’t been as present as he should have during her teenage years, but he was trying to make up for that before Beca -- before the car accident. And while Beca acted tough and cold towards his efforts, he was still her dad and she cared about him. 

“Am I going to die?” She hated the way her voice shook, hated how vulnerable she sounded. 

Empathy flashed in Galadriel’s eyes. “Not if you complete the Quest.” 

The Quest. The goddamn Quest. It all came back to that thing, didn’t it? 

“Sauron’s power will be so great if he is in possession of the ring. No one where it will stop. Perhaps it will affect other lands than Middle Earth.” 

Beca felt like crying. She wanted to curl up into a ball and sob. She curled her fists tighter, digging her nails into her palms not to lose it right there. 

“May I go, please?” 

She had many questions. More than she did before, even. But she was on the verge of a breakdown and simply wanted to be on her own. 

Upon Galadriel’s nod, Beca spun on her heels and hiked down the stairs with no specific destination in mind. She kept her head ducked, so focused on her steps and her breathing that she didn’t see or hear the person rounding the curve of the stairs until she collided into them. 

“I-I’m sorry,  _ Goheno nin.”  _

“Beca?” Chloe’s soft voice reached her voice and she glanced up. Twin twinkles stared back at her in concern. A gentle hand was laid upon her forearm. “ _ Meleth, _ what’s wrong?” 

“I’m going to die,” Beca blurted out, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembled. Her thoughts were a fucking mess, scattering in all directions. She wasn’t fooling herself. While she surprisingly made it out of their first battle mostly unscathed, that didn’t make a warrior out of her. She was an easy target, she didn’t have the experience or the courage of her companions. “I-I didn’t even tell my dad I loved him and he has no  _ idea _ . He’s by my bedside because I’m in a fucking coma, a coma I won’t wake up from because I’m going to fucking  _ die  _ out there!” She realized what she was saying musn’t make any sense outside her head. Her breathing had turned chopped as she sputtered and it felt as though her entire world was crashing down on her shoulders. Panic gripped her stomach, mingling with intense sadness like she had rarely felt before. “I just wanna go home. I-I want -- I want to go  _ home _ .” 

Chloe tugged her closer and Beca didn’t resist; she folded herself in Chloe’s arms, fingers gripping the lapels of her tunic as she gasped for air. Beca had never been an emotional person, much less ever turned to anyone when she felt blue, but Chloe… Chloe was different. She had been Beca’s anchor all this time in this foreign, scary place. 

“ _ Tolo hí _ ,” Chloe whispered after a few minutes, leading Beca down the stairs and towards the quiet spot underneath the tree Beca previously occupied. She settled down beside Chloe, sniffling. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Beca shut her eyes, inhaling sharply. “I looked into Galadriel’s mirror and I saw my dad by my bedside in the hospital. Before -- before I ended up in this world, I was in a car accident and I woke up in the woods where you and Legolas found me.” 

Chloe nodded slowly. “I see.” 

“And Galadriel told me the Beca in my world would survive only if the Quest is completed. Which means I’ll only go back to my world when and if the ring is destroyed and let’s face it, what are the odds of that happening?” A humorless chuckle puffed past her lips as she glanced up to the sky. “Saruman’s entire army knows what we’re trying to do. Our journey is not a secret anymore and we’ve already lost Gandalf.” 

“You cannot lose faith,  _ Meleth, _ ” Chloe murmured, reaching to wipe Beca’s tears away. “I believe that Good always prevails over Evil. But we can’t give up. For Middle-Earth but also for you. We’ll do everything we can to send you back home.” 

Beca drew in a shuddering breath and swallowed thickly, eventually nodding. 

“There you are!” Beca glanced over her shoulder to see Pippin approaching. “Merry, I found Lady Beca!” 

Beca blinked. “You were looking for me?” 

Merry nodded as he stopped beside his friend. “You weren’t with us at lunch. We got worried, Lady Beca. We know you love food as much as you do and it isn’t like you to skip a meal!”

Beca managed a smile. These hobbits had hearts too big for their small bodies. “It’s just Beca, guys. Lady Beca makes me feel old.” 

“Have you been crying?” Pippin questioned with a frown, then produced a handkerchief from his pants pocket and handed it over. “It’s clean, I promise.” 

Beca chuckled, accepting it with a grateful nod. The two hobbits were still staring, expecting an answer. “I miss my family, that’s all.” 

“Well, that’s why we’re on this Quest, ain’t it?” Pippin said. “To protect them and everyone else. After that, we’ll all be reunited with out loved ones and we’ll be able to take warm baths, eat hot food and smoke as much Long Bottom leaf as we want.” 

“But we’ve got to save Middle-Earth first,” Merry added with a dutiful expression. 

“You guys are absolutely right. When did you get so wise?” Her focus shifted to Pippin, who was the most foolish of the bunch. 

“I’m trying to make Gandalf proud, wherever he is,” his words were tinted with sadness and he bowed his head. 

“He is, Pippin.” Beca stated with confidence. “Let’s make him even prouder by destroying the ring and save Middle-Earth.” 

And as Beca was now starting to understand, the many worlds beyond, including her own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
Goheno nin: Forgive me   
Tolo hi: Come here  
Meleth: Love


	9. Onwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized some of you who not familiar with LOTR might be confused as I've used Sauron and Saruman's names as the villains. Sauron only lives in spirit. Saruman is a white wizard whose great knowledge of dark magic led him to Sauron because he too is interested in the power of the ring. Saruman is the one to control the Orcs and is behind everything else that went after the fellowship. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Their time in the city of Lorien seemed to stretch on for longer than it actually lasted. Beca had the impression the company had been there for a month, when in reality, it had only been a few days. 

Time moved at a different pace in Caras Galadhon, she found out. 

On the morning of their departure, Beca felt recharged with enough energy for the next part of their journey. It would be more difficult now that their mission was no longer a secret and they would have to be even more cautious as they hiked through foreign lands. Aragorn stepped up in Gandalf’s absence to guide them the rest of the way into the fires of Mordor, choosing to head south towards Amon Hen. 

Beca dressed in brand new clothes kindly gifted from the elves: a white shirt underneath a dark green tunic and brown pants made of a comfortable fabric. She wove her hair into a braid and pushed her feet into her boots, strapping her sword around her waist. She no longer had any daggers, having used the three she was given in Imladris in their last battle.

Shortly after breakfast, the ten of them stood on the banks of the Silverlode river. Four boats were moored behind them as the next part of their journey would be down the Great River.

Before they left Caras Galadhon, Lady Galadriel gifted each of them with a gift. 

Chloe and Legolas got kick-ass bows, Gimli three locks from Galadriel’s golden mane, Boromir a golden belt, daggers for Pippin and Merry, a rope for Sam and a crystal light for Frodo. As though reading Beca’s mind,  _ again _ , Galadriel got her set of fifteen daggers, each kept neatly in separate compartments in a leather belt pack and easy to draw. 

They were all given Lembas bread, from which a small bite sufficed to quench a man’s hunger for a whole day as well as Elven cloaks, which color was hard to define; grey in twilight but green or brown when they moved through trees and bushes, the perfect ally to hide them from unfriendly eyes. These were secured at the neck with a beautiful green and silver brooch, an Elven leaf. 

Beca climbed into one of the four boats with Chloe and Pippin. Legolas and Gimli traveled in another one together, Boromir and Merry in a third and in front of them, Aragorn and Frodo opened the way in the fourth. 

“This Lembas bread really is tasty,” Pippin broke the silence some twenty minutes after they’d left as he sat between Chloe and Beca, who both rowed. 

“Yeah? How much did you eat?” Beca asked, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. 

“Four,” His tone held a tiny bit of guilt mingled with regret and he couldn’t hold back a loud burp. “In my defense, that was before Legolas told me one bite was enough!”

Beca rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly. “Unbelievable.” 

The journey down the Great River was smooth, the current pushing the boats along without them having to row so hard. 

“Holy shit,” Beca gasped at the sight of two huge, 300 feet something rock statues towering over them on each side of the river. They looked like medieval figures, kings of some sort each with one hand extended in front of them as though to stop any intruders. “Who are they?” 

“Arogarth, the Gates of Gondor,” Chloe answered, awe too weighing down her tone. “Past Kings Isildur and Anarion.” 

“Isildur, as in Aragorn’s ancestor?” Pippin asked. 

“Yes. He was the one to cut off Sauron’s finger which bore the One Ring during the War of the Last Alliance. Sauron’s spirit fled from his body but it will survive as long as the ring is not destroyed by the fires of Mordor, from which it was created." Chloe explained. "Isildur ruled over Gondor until his death.” 

“So Aragorn is royalty?”   


“Yes.” 

“Are you elf royalty, Lady Lostariel? You’d make a beautiful queen.” 

Beca stifled a snicker, though she couldn’t disagree; Chloe would indeed make a beautiful ruler. 

“Royalty does not run in my blood, but many elves in Mirkwood see me as a princess as Legolas’ father, King Thranduil took me in after my parents were killed by orcs when I was very young.” 

Beca paused in her rhythmic rowing, that piece of information cracking her heart. She glanced over her shoulder and met Chloe’s eyes, casting her a sad smile. 

“Legolas is your brother then?” Pippin spoke in curiosity. 

“Yes, if not by blood, he is to my heart,” Chloe replied, fondness evident in her tone. 

They rowed while trading lighter talk until midday, Pippin making most of the conversation with tales from the Shire. They moored by a bank, jumped out of the boats and clambered onto the shores. 

“We'll cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot.” Aragorn instructed. “We approach Mordor from the North.”

“Oh, yes,” Gimli’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that gets even better…” 

Pippin stopped chewing (for crying out loud, was he eating more Lembas?!), hanging onto Gimli’s every word, his expression blanching as the dwarf went on. 

“That is our road.” Aragorn’s tone left no room for any objection. “I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf.”

“Recover my…” Gimli huffed and grumbled some more into his beard. Beca rolled her eyes, her focus shifting to Chloe and Legolas, whose features showed concern as they gazed into the forest behind them. 

“What is it?” Beca asked Chloe in a whisper while Legolas spoke in hushed tones with Aragorn. 

“This place isn’t safe,” Chloe murmured and Beca’s hand moved to the hilt of her sword out of reflex. 

“Orcs patrol the Eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness.” Aragorn reminded the lot of them. 

“Where’s Frodo?” Sam asked, panic tinting his tone as he looked around for his lifelong friend. 

“Boromir’s gone, too.” Beca noted, sharing a glance with Aragorn. She believed he was thinking along the same lines as her; Boromir had trouble staying away from the ring. 

“I’ll go find them,” Aragorn said. “Let’s find some wood for the fire. Be on your guard. Gimli, stay here with the hobbits.” 

Swallowing thickly, Beca followed Chloe into the depths of the woods in search for tinders and logs to make a fire. She steadily relaxed as Chloe questioned her about her world. 

“So, this  _ selfon _ thing… you mean that I can communicate with someone who’s a hundred miles away in a matter of seconds?” 

Beca smiled. Throwing Chloe off with technology never got old. “Yep.” 

“That’s fascinating!” Chloe gushed as she picked up a log and set it on the pile Beca was carrying. With her hood on and her hair hidden away, Chloe’s eyes seemed to stand out even more and Beca nearly tripped over her next step, completely enraptured by their beauty.

_ God _ , she was a goner. 

Chloe looked at her curiously. “Are you okay, Meleth?” 

There was that word again. Beca narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean? Meleth? You keep calling me that.” Whenever it was just the two of them, Beca noticed, never otherwise. 

“It’s Elvish.” 

Beca rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Sherlock.” 

Her quip was met with confusion. “You never did explain to me what the joke with that Sherlock individual is.” 

“Nice try changing the subject, Chlo,” Beca called out. “I’ll tell you if you--” Beca stopped short, dropping the pile of wood when the unmistakable sound of metal clashing against metal reached her ears in the distance. Swords. Battle. Her eyes met Chloe’s urgently. “Chloe.” 

They took off towards the source of the sound, coming up to a clearing to find Aragorn taking down a group of fifty orcs one by one. Only, as they ran closer, Beca realized some didn’t look like the orcs encountered in Moria. They were bigger, bearing more human-like features and terrifying yellow eyes. They bore a white hand print across their faces.  


“Uruk-Hais,” Beca could hear a hint of fear in Chloe's voice that had panic unleash within her. Chloe didn’t waste any time, firing off a few arrows that killed three of their assaillants on the spot. Beca took out her sword and struck the first beast that came at her, spinning around to stab the one coming at her from the other side. 

“Find the halflings!” A huge Uruk, clearly the leader ordered the others. “Find the halflings! Don’t kill them, Saruman wants them alive.” 

Oh shit, they were after the hobbits. A wave of Orcs ran past them, heading towards the river. 

Beca’s first instinct was to run back to where the hobbits were in an attempt to protect them, but she was surrounded by Orcs (or Uruks. Whatever) and couldn’t find an escape route. There were so  _ many _ of them everywhere and it was as though more came out of nowhere, giving none of the company a moment of reprieve. A horn sounded from down by the river, like a signal for help.  


“Aragorn! Go!” Legolas shouted, he too showing up out of nowhere and killing two Orcs with one arrow. Aragorn bounded towards the sound while Beca, Chloe, Legolas and Gimli held more Orcs back. 

Beca felt her strength weaken much quicker this time around; their opponents were bigger, more endurant and strategist. Each movement burned off too much energy and Beca was starting to lose focus as the exertion made her head spin.   


“Beca, behind you!” She heard Chloe shout urgently but her sluggish brain registered the warning too late. She turned around and blocked an attack last second but the Uruk retaliated by grabbing her neck with both hands and squeezing so hard that her fingers let her sword slip away as her feet came off the ground. 

She gasped for air as the beast slammed her against the concrete of a ruin behind her, clearly finding thrill in making her death a slow one. It dropped her before she could pass out from oxygen loss and fell to its knees, an arrow embedded into its neck. 

Beca’s vision swam and she was about to faint when Chloe caught her around the waist and slowly lowered her down on the ground, her back propped up against a pillar while Legolas and Gimli covered Chloe. 

Despite her hazy state, Beca noted that Chloe, Legolas and Gimli protected her until there was no enemies left standing. As Legolas and Gimli fled after Aragorn, Chloe knelt down by Beca. “Meleth, are you well? Can you stand? We cannot linger in this forest much longer.” 

Beca nodded, immediately regretting the motion as another wave of dizziness swept over her. She stood up with Chloe’s help and followed her down towards the river. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw Aragorn knelt by a body. 

Boromir. 

Aragorn shook his head faintly when he looked back and saw them approaching, the pain in his eyes substitutes for words he probably couldn’t pronounce.   


“They took Pippin and Merry,” Aragorn said after a while, hanging his head. 

Guilt coiled in Beca’s stomach; she couldn’t defend herself out there and as a result, one of her companions was dead and the hobbits had been captured. Beca swallowed the bile rising in her throat, blinking back tears. 

“Frodo and Sam must have reached the Eastern shore by now. We’re not to go after them. They’re heading to the fires of Mordor on their own, it’s too dangerous to travel all together.” He stood, the fire in his eye still present despite their recent loss. Anger, need for revenge, devotion. “But we will not abandon Pippin and Merry to their deaths.” 

The five of them lifted Boromir's body and carried it down to the boats in solemn silence. They gently lay him down into one of them, setting his sword and his horn on his chest, then pushed the boat towards the high falls coming up ahead. 

Beca didn’t know Boromir very well and they had scarcely interacted, but he was a good man. His only fault was to let the power of the Ring gain the upper hand. Still, he fought to his dying breath to protect Merry and Pippin and for that Beca respected him. He deserved a proper farewell. 

_ “Go in peace _

_ Go in kindness _

_ Go in love _

_ Go in faith,”  _

She registered her companion’s glances as she sang softly in honor of their lost comrade, tears blurring her eyes while she watched the boat drift away. 

_ “Leave the day _

_ The day behind us _

_ Day is done _

_ Go in grace _

_ Let us go _

_ Into the dark _

_ Not afraid _

_ Not alone _

_ Let us hope _

_ By some good pleasure _

_ Safely to _

_ Arrive at home.”  _

“Thank you,” Aragorn spoke a few beats after the last note faded away, lifting his head. He squeezed her shoulder and cast her a sad smile. “That was a beautiful tribute for our fallen friend." He looked at their fellow companions. “Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light."  


Beca nodded, reaching out to wipe her tears away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Chloe wincing as she slung her bow over her shoulder. 

“Chloe,” Beca caught the elf’s attention, stepping closer. Her eyes zeroed on a dark red patch staining Chloe’s tunic by the left side of her stomach. Beca hadn't noticed she had gotten hurt, then again she drifted in and out of consciousness over the last stretch of battle. “You’re injured.” 

“It’s nothing,” Chloe’s demeanor was uncharacteristically distant but Beca didn’t take it personally. Chloe nonetheless mustered a smile, one that didn't reach her eyes. “Do not fret, Meleth. I’ll be alright. Pippin and Merry need us.” 

Aragorn spoke before Beca could object. "Let's hunt some Orc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I could have saved Boromir with two added characters, but that felt like drifting too much from canon. 
> 
> [Beca's song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lqg2FcCGDps)


	10. Of Losses and Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: anything you recognize from the Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers does not belong to me.

If Beca thought she had already had a taste of what utter exhaustion felt like after the mines, she had another thing coming. 

They ran. They ran for three days and three nights over rocks and across plains, without stopping to rest, or even eat. Beca didn’t know how, but her body kept going as long as her mind and heart were filled with hope that they could save the hobbits. 

(she was also very thankful for those training ground laps Chloe and Legolas made her do back in Imladris.) 

(and the Lembas bread. God bless this marvelous elven creation.) 

“Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall.” Aragorn came to a half on their third morning, bending down to pick up the brooch they had been gifted by Galadriel. 

“They may yet be alive!” Legolas exclaimed, hope coloring his tone. 

“Are you okay?” Beca asked Chloe when the elf came to a stop beside her. “You look pale, Chlo.” 

“I’m fine.” Beca knew she was hurting more than she let on. “We can’t stop now, we’re gaining on them.” 

Beca bit back the argument lying on the tip of her tongue, though the concern etched in her brow didn’t vanish. 

“Less than a day ahead. Come!” Aragorn called and thus they resumed their journey, Gimli lagging behind. 

“I am wasted on cross-country!” The dwarf grumbled. “We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!”

“Come on Gimli,” Beca encouraged, glancing back. “For Merry and Pippin!” 

“Keep breathing! That’s the key! Breathe!” The dwarf told himself, doing his best to match his companions’ strides. 

Another night and morning of pursuit followed. The chase was starting to wear them thin, even Aragorn. As they crossed a plain, the drumming of horses hooves against the ground caught their attention. Aragorn ushered them to take cover behind rocks, a group of fifty horsemen cantering past their hiding spot a handful of seconds later. 

Aragorn stood once they had passed. “Riders of Rohan!” He shouted. “What news from the Mark?” 

Beca swallowed as the group turned around and galloped back to them upon a signal from their leader, surrounding the five of them in an ever-tightening circle. Aragorn lifted his hands as a token of surrender, Beca quickly following suit when spears were pointed dangerously close to their faces. 

“What business does a man, a Dwarf, two Elves and a Hobbit have in the Riddermark?” The leader asked. “Speak quickly!”

Hold  _ up _ . A Hobbit?!

“Dude, I’m not a Hobbit!” Beca cried. “I’m a woman, mind you. A badass one at that.” 

_ Asshole. _

Aragorn set a firm hand on her shoulder and Beca shut her mouth before the curse could escape. 

“Dude?” The knight echoed, shaking his head in slight confusion. “Are you insulting me?”

“It’s a term of endearment,” Aragorn assured quickly, then told their names one by one. “We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king.” 

“Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe,” The leader said gravely, taking off his helmet. “Not even his own kin.” 

The spears were withdrawn upon his signal and Beca felt like she could finally breathe. She glanced back to Chloe, the anger she felt from being called a hobbit flooding out of her at once when she saw how worse for wear the elf looked. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were too focused on getting the hobbits back to notice. 

“We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain,” Aragorn explained as the reason of their presence on the horsemen’s land. “They’ve taken two of our friends captive.”

“The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night.” Beca’s attention snapped back to the knight. He pointed towards a cloud of smoke in the distance. “We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them.”

“Dead?” Gimli’s voice quivered with dread. Beca felt her heart crack in her chest.

Not Merry and Pippin. It couldn’t be. 

“I am sorry,” the leader spoke softly, hanging his head. “Hasufel! Arod! Aquilo!” Three saddled horses, a gray, a chestnut and a dark brown moved up. “May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters.” He got back on his horse, giving them a dutiful nod. “Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope.” 

The horsemen cantered away, heading north. Wasting no time, Aragorn got on the chestnut horse, Legolas and Gimli on the gray one, which left the dark brown one for Beca and Chloe. Beca wanted to argue, that there was no way she was willingly getting on a horse, but now wasn’t the time to be her stubborn self, not when grief was upon them,  _ again _ . 

They rode towards the hill where decapitated corpses of Uruks were burning and got off their horses. The smell was foul, ten times worse than that of those living beasts. Beca’s stomach churned but she managed to keep from throwing up as Gimli shifted through the smoldering pile. 

Next to her, Chloe and Legolas prayed in Elvish, heads bowed. “_Hiro îth… ab 'wanath._” 

Aragorn kicked in an abandoned helmet, a gut-wrenching cry ripping from his vocal cords as he fell to his knees in utter despair. 

Beca felt tears prick in her eyes and lowered herself on the ground as well, defeated. How were they supposed to keep going if a piece of their soul was ripped away on each step of their journey? 

Who would be next? Gimli? Herself? Chloe? The thought of losing Chloe made Beca’s heart ache. Literally. She felt it squeeze in her chest, so painfully that she doubled over until it passed. 

“A hobbit lay here.” She heard Aragorn say before she would ponder too much on what the hell that kind of pain was supposed to mean. He was crouched, peering carefully at the marks on the ground. “And the other. Their hands were bound.” 

Beca snapped forward, picking up a cut piece of thick rope. “Their bonds were cut!” 

Aragorn followed the tracks. “The tracks lead away from the battle.” 

The five of them broke into a run, coming to a stop when the tracks disappeared into the forest. 

“Fangorn,” Gimli breathes. “What madness drove them in there?” 

“Maybe they were being pursued,” Beca said, sharing a glance with Aragorn before they carefully walk onwards, into the depth of the forest. Beca didn’t know what was so dangerous about it and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

“This forest is old. Very old,” Legolas spoke, awe coloring his tone. “Full of memory and... anger.” 

Beca gulped, her fingers curling around the hilt of her sword out of reflex. Gimli raised his axe and groans reverberated around them. 

“Gimli!” Aragorn whispered. “Lower your axe.” 

“The trees are talking to each other,” Chloe observed as she looked up. 

Legolas stopped in his tracks, looking ahead. “Aragorn, nad nâ ennas!” 

“Man cenich?”

“Um, not to be a pain but can you guys speak Westron?” Beca hissed, as whatever they were saying sounded urgent and she really wanted to be prepared if someone or something was to attack them. 

“The White Wizard approaches,” Legolas murmured. 

“Saruman?” Beca echoed, her voice quivering. 

Legolas and Chloe notched an arrow to their bows. 

“We must be quick,” Aragorn ordered, holding up his hand to give them the signal to attack. With a yell, they bounded forward. The elves’ arrows and Gimli’s axe were deflected, while Beca and Aragorn dropped their sword before the burning hilt could scald their hands. 

The bright light emitting from the figure in front of them was blinding. 

“You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits,” The voice was deep. Beca had the feeling she’d heard it before. “They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?”

“Who are you?” Aragorn shouted. “Show yourself!”

The light dimmed and Beca lowered the arm shielding her eyes, gasping audibly when her eyes adjusted. 

Gandalf. 

_ Gandalf! _

“It cannot be. You fell,” Legolas whispered, then bowed his head in respect. 

“Through fire and water,” Gandalf confirmed. A wide smile broke across Beca’s face. Gandalf was alive! “I fought the Balgor until its very end. Darkness took me. And I strayed out of thought and time. But alas, I felt life within me again.” He smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “I am Gandalf the White, and I come back to you now at the turn of the tide. One stage of your journey is over, another begins. War has come to Rohan.”

The group hiked towards the other side of the forest, another plain stretching out ahead of them.

“Mount up,” Aragorn instructed. “We must reach Edoras as soon as possible to warn Kind Théoden.” 

“Chloe?” Beca looked back when she didn’t get an answer, her heart dropping to her stomach as Chloe swayed on her feet, dropping to the ground in the next beat. “Chloe!” 

“What’s wrong with her??” Legolas dropped to his knees on Chloe’s other side. She had lost consciousness. 

“She has a fever,” Beca choked, running the back of her ringers over Chloe’s forehead and cheek. “She was-- she was stabbed the other day.” 

She was met with a glare, so uncharacteristic of Legolas that it made her shrink. “You knew she was hurt and you didn’t tell any of us!?” 

Beca shook her head, guilt coiling in her stomach. “I…” 

Legolas pushed Chloe’s cloak aside to reveal the dried blood stain. He pushed her tunic and shirt up, exposing Chloe’s wound. It was black and swollen, clearly infected. The smell emitting from it made Beca’s stomach flip.

“Orc blood,” Legolas muttered. “These bastards covered their swords with blood. It can be fatal to elves.” 

“What?” Beca felt the word shape her lips but her voice was gone. Fear sliced through her and her sense screeched into overdrive. “What can we do?” 

“We need to get to Edoras as soon as possible,” Aragorn spoke with urgency. “They have healers there who can help her.” 

As Beca didn’t know how to ride properly, Legolas took Chloe on his horse, Beca rode with Aragorn and Gimli with Gandalf. The journey to Edoras took maybe three hours, but it felt like days to Beca. Upon arrival in the medieval looking village, Legolas took Chloe to the healing ward and laid her on a cot. 

“Legolas, I need you to come with us meet with the King,” Aragorn said as he stood by the doorway. 

“But-- “ 

“Beca will look after Lostariel.” 

“I will,” Beca assured him, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “Go. For the greater cause.” 

Beca let out a soft sigh as her companions left, her eyes flickering back to Chloe. Her complexion was uncharacteristically pale, lacking the shine Chloe’s personality brought forth. Beca grabbed a wooden stool from the corner, silently watching as the healer worked to clean the wound with boiled water, then applied a paste on it. 

“Is that honey?” Beca asked, recognizing the familiar smell and consistency. 

“Honey and tumeric, my Lady. It accelerates healing and prevents further infection.” 

Beca nodded. It was truly the Middle Ages, from the buildings, clothing and medical techniques. “Is she going to be okay?” 

“I cannot tell just yet. What I am most concerned about is her fever. I shall fetch a cloth and some cold water.” 

Beca mustered a smile. “Thank you.” 

The woman left shortly after and Beca tended to Chloe, wetting the cloth and setting it on Chloe’s forehead as instructed.

“You really had to be the hero, huh?” Beca asked softly, stroking the back of Chloe’s hand with her thumb. Tears blurred her vision, some spilling down her cheeks. “Please be okay, Chlo. I don’t know if I can keep going with this journey if you’re not here. You’re been… my anchor through this fucking madness and I honestly would have given up at least five times if it weren’t for you. So you can’t give up on me alright?” She sniffed, wiping her tears with the back of her free hand. “Don’t give up on me, Chlo. I need you. You’re a motherfucking badass elf and no orc blood is going to take you down. Okay?” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand, bringing it up to her lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles before she could think twice about it. “Okay. Cool. I’m glad we came to the agreement that it would be a stupid way to die.” 

She remained by Chloe’s bedside for the next few hours, her hand tightly clasped over the elf’s. 

“Hey.” Beca looked up to find Legolas standing in the doorway. Darkness had fallen over the village without Beca noticing. “How is she?” 

Beca shrugged. “No change.” The elf sat down across from her and took Chloe’s other hand. “I’m sorry. I should have said something but Chloe didn’t want us to stop, for Merry and Pippin’s sake.” 

“I know,” Legolas murmured. “She is stubborn that way. Always has been. And selfless, never puts herself before anyone she cares about.” He glanced up, eyes full of apology. “Please forgive me for what I said and the manner in which I said it. You did not deserve my anger. I simply care about her as…” 

“As a sister?” Beca filled in when he faltered. Legolas looked surprised. “She told me your parents adopted her when hers were killed.” 

“Yes.” Legolas bowed his head briefly. He swallowed. “We’re to leave Edoras in the morning to take refuge in Helm’s Deep.” 

“In the morning?” Beca echoed, sceptical. “But Chloe, she…” 

“We don’t have a choice. Staying here is sentencing ourselves to death. We’ll take her with us, we just have to hope she gets better overnight. Her bloodline is much stronger than that of a regular elf. That is most likely why she lasted this long without losing consciousness. I am confident she will pull through.”

Beca’s head snapped towards Chloe when she saw her shift in her peripheral. Hope bloomed in her chest. “Chlo?”

“Where am I?” The elf croaked, twisting her head to look at Beca. 

“In Edoras. You passed out near Fangorn.” She squeezed Chloe’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Chloe rasped. Beca pushed to her feet to pour some water into a cup. She slid a hand behind Chloe’s neck, tilting her head forward and bringing the cup to her lips so she could take a sip. Chloe mustered a tired smile.  _ “Le hannon, meleth nîn.” _

“Your fever broke,” Beca noted as she rested the back of her hand on Chloe’s forehead. A relieved smile curved her lips. “You scared the heck out of me.” 

“M sorry,” Chloe murmured, blinking hazily. “Are you alright?” 

Beca nodded. “Better now.” 

Legolas cleared his throat and only then did Beca remember he was there. “I shall go take care of the horses.” He stood, bending down to press a kiss to Chloe’s forehead, the first show of affection Beca had witnessed between the two elves. “ _ Posto vae, Neth.”  _

_ “Athon, Hanar.”  _

Beca focused back on Chloe once Legolas had departed. “Can I get you anything? Some food? An extra blanket?” 

“Ah you’re awake, my lady,” Beca glanced over her shoulder to find the healer. “And you have more color in your cheeks." She lifted Chloe's gown to examine the wound. "This looks much better. You healed surpisingly quickly. Wonderful! I’ll fetch warm water for a sponge bath.” 

She came back a few minutes later with a bucket, soap and a clean cloth, which she set down by the fire next to a wooden bathtub. 

“I can do it, I’m sure you have other patients to tend to,” Beca said before she could help herself. She glanced to Chloe. “If you’re okay with that.” 

Chloe nodded, remaining silent. 

The middle-aged woman looked surprised by the request, but eventually nodded her head. “Very well. Be sure not to let the wound soak. Call if you need anythin’.” 

Beca nodded and stood to pour some of the hot water in the tub, just enough to cover Chloe’s legs once she was in it. She helped Chloe out of bed. “Um, okay let’s takes this off.” She had seen Chloe naked before but was as shy as last time, if not more. It was just the two of them in the room, which had gone from cold and grim to hot and sweaty in a matter of seconds. Beca grabbed the hem of Chloe’s long cotton gown and helped it over her head, averting her eyes once Chloe was naked. “You want to um, get in the tub?” 

“Oh, right,” the elf sheepishly murmured, lowering herself in it with Beca’s help. 

After rolling up her sleeves to her elbows, Beca knelt on the floor by Chloe’s side and dipped the cloth into the warm soapy water. She gently rubbed it over Chloe’s shoulders and upper chest, careful not to look down at other parts of Chloe’s body. She could feel Chloe’s curious eyes on her and willed herself not to look up either, knowing she was going to blush furiously if she did. 

“Do humans have soulmates?” Chloe broke the silence after a little while, once Beca had moved on to washing her back. 

Not having expected that question, Beca did a double-take. “Soulmates? Um, some people believe soulmates exist but it’s not like, an official thing or anything.” 

“Do you?” Chloe asked next. 

“Tilt your head back,” Beca instructed softly, using the cup to wet Chloe’s hair. “I don’t think I do. It seems odd to me to think that someone is predestined to  _ be _ with that specific person.” She grabbed the bar of soap and gently rubbed Chloe’s red locks with it. “Do Elves have soulmates?”

“Yes. We call them  _ thiramin _ . Sometimes our feelings develop over time, but we generally instantly know the person is our  _ thiramin _ when we first lie our eyes upon them.” 

Beca nodded. “That’s pretty neat.” 

She wondered if Chloe had met her…  _ thiramin _ already. Probably, right? She was over three thousand years old after all, it would be odd if she hadn’t met her person yet. Beca suddenly felt ridiculous for letting herself fall for Chloe. Not only was she already meant for someone else, they weren’t even from the same  _ world _ . 

She rinsed Chloe’s hair and grabbed a clean cloth from the shelf to dry it. “All done.” 

“Thank you.” Chloe stood up and Beca dried her back while Chloe did her front, helping her put her gown back on afterwards. “Can you lie with me, meleth?” 

Beca swallowed, nodding. It wasn’t like she had the strength to say no, she was too craving some closeness. Beca laid down upon the covers, stretching her arm out so Chloe could snuggle into her side. 

"Do you think Merry and Pippin are still alive?"

Beca took a deep breath. "I think so."

"I hope you're right," Chloe said softly, her head nestled on Beca's shoulder. “Do you still have your music box?”   


Her iPod didn’t have anymore battery. “Um, no. It’s broken.” 

“Oh.” 

Beca cleared her throat, hoping this was just as good. “ _ You with the sad eyes… don’t be discouraged oh I realize, it’s hard to take courage, in a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all, and the darkness inside you… can make you feel so small.”  _

She felt Chloe’s fingers curl around the lapel of her tunic and her eyelashes brush against her neck as her eyes fluttered shut. 

_ “But I see your true colors, shining through. I see your true colors, that’s why I love you… so don’t be afraid, to let them show your true colors, true colors are beautiful… like a rainbow.”  _

Beca continued to sing until Chloe’s breathing evened out, and only then did she let her eyes find some rest as well, for the first time in three night and four days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
Hiro îth… ab 'wanath: May they rest in peace  
Posto vae, Neth: Rest well, sister  
Athon, Hanar: I will, brother


	11. The Journey to Helm's Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is recognizable from the LOTR original script

Chloe was still asleep when Beca woke up, and she carefully untangled their limbs to stand up. She was still wearing her dry sweat stenched clothes from last night and was positively reeking. The healer was kind enough to give Beca her late husband’s clothes and while it was kind of creepy and they were two sizes too big for her, it felt nice to wear clean stuff. 

After changing, Beca wandered about the village to find something to eat. People must have figured out she belonged to the group of warriors that arrived last night and freed their King of the demonic spell cast on him, because it wasn’t long before she was offered a bowl of warm porridge by a kind villager. She dared ask for two, explaining the other one was for the injured elf resting up in the healing ward. 

Beca walked back to the small stone building acting as a hospital and found Chloe sat up on the edge of her bed, dressed in clean clothes. “Morning.” 

“Good morning,” Chloe greeted with a small smile, accepting the wooden bowl with a nod. “Thank you.” 

Beca lowered herself next to her, eyeing her a hawk. “How are you feeling?” 

“I feel alright,” the elf answered, lifting her shirt to expose her clean wound. Looked like the healer had it stitched up while Beca was gone. “It’s healing well, see?” 

Beca nodded, nonetheless remaining sceptic about Chloe’s ability to fight anytime soon. “Promise me that’s the last time you’ll play the hero, okay? I was worried sick, especially when Legolas told me orc blood could kill you.” 

Chloe hung her head. “I could only think about Merry and Pippin.” 

“I get it.” Beca heavied out a sigh. “I do. I felt the same way. But losing you in the process would have been terrible, too.” 

Terrible being an understatement; it would most likely shatter Beca’s heart to pieces, but she would never admit that aloud. 

Beca looked up when she caught movement in her peripheral. Aragorn was standing in the doorway. “We’re to leave soon for Helm’s Deep. Get your horses ready.” 

Beca rode out on Aquilo, Chloe on a horse she was given by King Theoden and they followed Aragorn and Legolas on their respective horses, surrounded by a dozen riders of Rohan and the King. The villagers trailed behind them, carrying or dragging their personal belongings as they left their homes to take refuge in Helm’s Deep, a fortress located a day ride’s away. 

“Breathe, Meleth,” Chloe said once they had ridden past the gates. 

Beca puffed out a strained chuckle, tension leaving her shoulders the second she was called out. “I’m not-- I’m not really at ease on horses. They scare me, to be honest.” 

“How come?” 

“Because they’re giants and I’m tiny?” Beca grimaced. “Also, I could fall and hurt myself if I give him the wrong command.” 

“Lower your hands, Meleth,” Chloe instructed, which Beca immediately did, resting them on the front of the saddle. “Good. And never pull on your reins except when you want the horse to stop or back up.” 

Beca frowned. “Horses can back up?” 

“Yes, but that’s not vital right now. Now to stir your horse towards the right, you want to open the right reign without pulling so the horse feels the tug on its bit.” Beca did so, and her horse drifted to the right. 

Over the next few hours, Chloe taught Beca the basics of horse riding. Beca’s thighs were burning by the time they stopped for lunch and her crotch felt like it was broken. Eowyn, the King’s niece, made a stew for the fellowship, but it was so vinegary that Beca discreetly poured the contents of her bowl on the ground the second the blonde had turned away and eating some of the Lembas bread she had left instead. 

Aragorn announced they were continuing on towards Helm’s Deep minutes later. Beca winced when she got back on her horse, thankful no one seemed to be looking because she was sure it lacked grace. 

“It’s true you don’t see many Dwarf women.” Ahead of she and Chloe, Gimli was chatting with Eowyn as she led his horse by the reins while Legolas scouted in the distance for any threats. “And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they’re often mistaken for Dwarf men.” 

Beca leaned towards Chloe as their horses walked side by side. “Do Dwarf women have beards, too?” 

Chloe nodded.

“And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women,” Gimli continued. “And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground! Which is of course ridiculous… Whoa!” 

Gimli’s horse suddenly reared up and cantered away, Gimli ungraciously landing on the ground with a thump. 

“Gimli! Are you okay!?” Beca managed to ask between chuckles as he was clearly not hurt. 

“It's alright!” Gimli assured as he stood up. “Nobody panic. It was deliberate. That was deliberate."

Beca gave Chloe a pointed look. “_ See? _ Horses are dangerous animals.” 

Chloe giggled and Beca got slightly high on the melodic sound. “They have ears you know, they understand us when we talk and yours might get upset if you keep saying things like that.” 

Beca’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, they _ can _ ??” This was a mystical world after all, but she never thought horses actually understood human language. Wait a _ second _. She squinted, catching Chloe’s mischievous eye. “Are you fucking with me?” 

Chloe’s eyes were the ones to turn as big as saucers this time and she choked on her saliva, blush rushing to meet her cheeks and pointy ears. Beca only got why she was so flustered when she thought back to her own words. 

“Oh _ God _ . No, _ no _ . I didn’t mean fucking in that sense. _ Shit _ .” Beca was positive her complexion matched Chloe’s. And now the imagery of she and Chloe erm… _ fucking _ was stuck in a loop in her mind and she was just about ready to leap off the horse to her own death. She cleared her throat, knowing Chloe was waiting for an explanation. “To fuck with someone can also mean to make them believe something that’s not true like you saying horses can understand what we’re saying when it’s not the case.” 

“Oh.” Beca couldn’t tell if that _ oh _ was out of disappointment or relief. “Your language is awfully confusing.” 

“I could tell you the same,” Beca retaliated, castin Chloe a pointed look. “Are you ever going to tell me what meleth means or do I need to ask Legolas or Aragorn? I hope for you it doesn’t mean ‘little one’ because -- ”

“WARGS!” Beca’s head snapped in the direction of the warning to see Aragorn running down the hill standing ahead. As a ripple that disturbed water, the urgent cry made the villagers panic and huddle together. “We’re under attack!” 

Beca had no idea what a warg was and wasn’t sure she wanted to know just yet. 

“Lostariel, Beca, continue with Eowyn to Helm’s Deep by the south route. Make haste,” Aragorn instructed urgently as he got back on his horse. “Protect the villagers.” 

“I’m fighting,” Beca said firmly. She was done being scared and they would certainly need as many people as they could to fight those… what was their names again? 

“Beca, you can’t fight on a horse,” Chloe shouted over the villager’s cries. 

“Stay safe, Chlo,” Beca said, kicking her horse’s flanks to get it moving. 

Beca’s horse followed Aragorn’s and when they reached the top of the hill, Beca nearly turned around. A dozen giant hyenas being ridden by orcs were barreling towards them at full speed and Beca felt her blood run cold. It seemed as though her horse sensed her fear, as it started backing up instead of going forward. 

“No, no, no, don’t to this to me now, horse!” Beca muttered. God, she was an _ idiot _, riding a horse into a fight. She couldn’t control the damn animal! Beca was useless from where she was, fifty feet away from the heart of battle. Unless... “For the greater cause,” Beca told herself in a form of pep talk, scrambling off her horse and continuing on foot. 

Instead of pulling out her sword however, Beca took the bow Chloe had given her in Imladris and notched an arrow once she was close enough to even attempt to make the shot. She shut one eye, focused on her moving target and pulled the string back, puffing out a breath before releasing. It hit the hyena’s flank, taking it down before it could attack one of the riders. 

“Alright, okay,” Beca breathed in surprise. She shook her head to remain focused. “One motherfucker down, seven to go.” 

She drew her bow towards another warg next, shooting the orc on its back this time (she was aiming for the animal but that worked too). The riderless beast whirled around, spotting her and bounding towards Beca before she could even get her bow ready. “Oh fuck!” 

Beca managed with trembling hands to aim the arrow seconds before the giant hyena could launch into its final leap and rip her head off, shooting it straight into its chest and managing to roll away to avoid getting crushed to death by its weight as it landed on the ground. 

Aware of how vulnerable she was, Beca scrambled to get her hands back on her bow, pushing to her feet. She didn’t have time to process just how lucky she had been with this one, picking up a discarded spear and shoving it into the open mouth of a warg coming for her. 

The orc on its back tumbled to the ground but was quick to its feet, but Beca was quicker, managing to reach for an arrow and embed it into its neck. She got another arrow ready, scanning the battlefield for the next warg that could attack. 

“Aragorn, look out!” She shouted seconds before a warg barreled into Aragorn, flinging him off his horse. Aragorn stood up, and in an attempt to kill the next warg rider coming at him, was grabbed by the neck. After a wrestling match on top of the warg, the orc eventually fell off, dead. Aragorn was nowhere to be seen though, and Beca realized after a beat or two that he was being dragged by the hyena, tangled in its tack. The beast was going straight for the cliff edge fifty feet ahead and Beca didn’t have time to think; she shot her arrow before she could properly aim, luckily hitting the warg’s shoulder. It considerably slowed the bastard down without stopping its run. 

Beca fumbled, her hands visibly shaking as she drew her bow with a new arrow. “Relax the tension in your shoulders,” she murmured to herself, like Chloe had on their first lesson before letting go, hitting its flank this time with a fatal shot. She still couldn’t see Aragorn though, and panic surged her limbs as she took off in a run. As the battle wound down around her, the wargs retreating now that they were outnumbered, Beca rushed over, half expecting Aragorn to have met the same fate as Gandalf in Moria. “Aragorn!”

“Little help,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he dangled from the edge. Beca hurried and dragged him to safety, working on untangling his wrist guard caught in one of the warg’s saddle straps. 

“You good, dude?” She asked as he pushed to his feet, brushing off the dust on his clothes. He looked more shaken than she’d ever seen him as he glanced down to the river laying a hundred feet below. 

Aragorn squeezed Beca’s Beca’s shoulder, his head bobbing in a grateful nod. “I owe you my life.”

His gratitude sparked pride which bloomed in Beca’s chest, chasing away some of that lingering guilt she’d been carrying around since Boromir’s death. She no longer felt as though she was a burden to the company, but maybe truly one of theirs. 

“Aragorn!” Legolas rushed over before Beca could reply, and King Theoden soon stood by their side as well. “Are you well my friend?” 

“We need to reach Helm’s Deep as quickly as possible,” Aragorn said as he sheathed his sword. “Saruman sent those warg riders to slow us down. A bigger army must be on its way.” 

“How-how big are we talking?” Beca swallowed. Were they ever going to catch a break? 

Aragorn’s expression turned solemn. “Thousands at least.” 

Beca didn’t know how many people capable of fighting there were in Helm’s Deep, but something told it was much less. 

The four of them and fellow survivors got back on their horses and cantered across plains for the next couple hours to make up for lost time and reach their destination before nightfall. Eventually, Helm’s Deep could be spotted in the distance, the medieval fortress tucked between two cliff sides on the other side of the valley. The riders slowed down their pace to a walk, leading their horses down the steep and rocky hill. 

“You did well out there,” Legolas said as he walked beside her with Gimli riding behind him, casting her a nod. 

“What’s the word you used, lass? A badass?” Gimli asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yep.” Beca smiled, squinting against the sunlight. “I can’t take all the credit, I had two talented teachers.” She fell silent for a stretch, thinking back to her conversation with Chloe the night before. “Do you also have one of those… _ thiramin _person?” 

What Beca truly wanted to know, and hoped Legolas would tell her, was whether Chloe had found hers already. 

Legolas visibly stiffened, surprise sweeping over his features. “I do.” His tone was tinted with undeniable sadness, and Beca wanted to kick herself for asking. She was ready to drop the subject, but Legolas spoke again. “Her name’s Almárëa. She traveled to Valinor before we started this quest.” 

“Valinor?” 

“The Undying Lands, where all is peace and beauty. She had to go in order to be safe. I stayed behind for the quest.” 

Beca winced. “I’m so sorry, Legolas.” 

“I can only hope we defeat evil and I get to see her again.” His gaze got misty as he stared out into the distance, a small, nostalgic smile curving his lips. “_ Meleth nîn_...” 

The almost inaudible word made Beca choke on her tongue and she felt her eyes widen to the size of saucers. Her heart stuttered violently and her breathing hitched. “What -- ” she shook her head, convinced she had misheard. “What did you just say?” 

Legolas froze and one look at his expression told Beca he knew he had said something he wasn’t supposed to. He ducked his head. “N-nothing.” 

“No, no, it’s not nothing,” Beca insisted. “That word you said, _ meleth nîn_. What does it _ mean_?” 

“It means my love in Elvish, lass,” Gimli provided when Legolas remained silent, unable to see Legolas’ expression. Beca blinked twice in slow succession, staring at the dwarf in shock. “What’s with the look? My ancestors in ancient Moria had to learn since they often dealt with the Elves of Eregion, so naturally my parents taught it to me…” 

Gimli’s tale faded away as Beca processed that piece of information. _ Meleth nîn _ was Elvish for _my love_? 

Her head started to spin as it dawned onto her.

Could she be… Chloe’s _ thiramin? _


	12. The Eve of Battle

“Make way for the King!”

Beca’s mind was still reeling with many questions by the time they reached Helm’s Deep heavy gates. The fortress was imposing, cold and intimidating. The villagers from Edoras rushed over as soon as the Rohirrim rode past the city walls and several women broke down into sobs when they realized their husbands had been killed in the attack.

Their heart wrenching cries wasn’t something Beca would soon forget as she watched on, feeling helpless.

“So few of you have returned...” Beca heard Eowyn murmur as she stepped off her horse.

“Our people are safe.” Was the King’s reply. Beca saw how difficult it was for him to leave the dead men behind without taking the time to properly bury them. “We have paid for it with many lives.”

“Meleth.” The sound of Chloe’s voice made Beca’s heart skip and trip and she turned around, nearly falling backwards from the force of Chloe’s embrace. Beca shut her eyes, inhaling Chloe’s soothing scent and releasing slowly as she buried her face into her neck. “I was frightened something might happen to you.”

“I’m okay,” Beca murmured. Better than okay, actually. Better than she had felt in a long while, as though finding out she was Chloe’s soulmate somehow unlocked something within her.

“Going into battle on a horse?!” Chloe pulled back and pinned Beca with a hard, cold gaze that made Beca swallow. “Are you mad??”

“She was a badass, Lady Lostariel,” Gimli jumped in before Beca could argue. “Whatever that means in her language.”

Beca rolled her eyes but did cast Gimli an appreciative smile for coming to her defense. She focused back on Chloe as the rest of the fellowship followed the King somewhere to discuss battle strategy, Beca guessed. “I’m sorry for being so reckless and worrying you. I did well though, thanks to my teacher.” Beca wanted to tug Chloe aside, find some secluded corner so they could talk because all she could think about was this thiramin thing, but Chloe’s expression turned grave. Beca frowned, searching her eyes. “What is it?”

“I need to speak to Aragorn."

“Okay,” Beca said without question, taking Chloe’s hand. Upon asking for the King, she and Chloe were led to the Great Hall, where a meeting between the rest of the fellowship, the King and his men was taking place. Heads swiveled towards Beca and Chloe upon entrance.

“All of Isengard has emptied, your Grace,” Chloe stated. “I saw the army while scouting on our way here.”

“How many?”

“Ten thousand strong at least.” Beca’s head snapped towards the elf at that, mouth agape.

Stunned silence followed. Nobody dared say anything for a long while, various expressions of horror sweeping across everyone’s faces.

Aragorn stood. "It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. We ought to be prepared.”

“They’ll be here by nightfall, Aragorn,” Chloe added with urgency.

“Let them come. We’ll be prepared.” The King strode out, followed by his men.

Nightfall was in a couple hours, tops. There was little time to prepare. After eating some so they wouldn’t drop during battle, Aragorn led them to the armory. Men of all ages had been rounded up as reinforcement and were selecting their weapons to take them to the blacksmith.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys," Aragorn observed, looking around. "These are no soldiers.”

Beca kept her eyes down, avoiding the villager’s frightful gazes that matched her own. There was no way they could beat an army of ten thousand.

Gimli nodded. "Most have seen too many winters."

"Or too few," Legolas added. “Look at them. They’re frightened. I can see it in their eyes.” Beca uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to another as Legolas stared at Aragorn, something akin to anger swirling in his eye. “_ Boe a hûn: neled herain dan caer menig! _”

Aragorn and Legolas switched to Sindarin, no doubt to spare the men around them.

“Then I shall die as one of them!” Aragorn’s words boomed against the walls and a heavy silence settled around them. The ranger spun on his heels and strode out, his exit casting a bone chilling aura over the room.

Beca felt the sudden need to throw up. She didn’t want to die. She couldn't-- she was only nineteen, she had her whole life ahead of her still.

“Meleth,” Chloe’s voice made Beca look up, drawing her away from her spiraling thoughts. “Your ring… you do that whenever you’re nervous.”

Beca glanced down, not noticing until now that she’d been fiddling with her mother’s ring. “I need some air,” she muttered and made for the heavy door, pulling it open and climbing up the steps leading to one of the towers. Beca approached the edge and leaned against one of the battlements, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to steady her breathing.

The sun had just dipped behind the mountains and the temperatures had significantly dropped in the last hour.

“Beca.” Beca jumped, bracing a hand over her chest.

“Jesus, Chlo. A little warning next time.” Beca didn’t mean her tone to be biting and her expression instantly softened, apologetic. She ducked her head. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m scared.”

“I know,” Chloe said softly as she stepped closer, her hand drifting up to rest atop Beca’s. Beca’s gaze flickered to Chloe’s and for the first time since their meeting, fear stared back at her. Chloe was thinking it too; that tonight might be their last night. All of them. Beca, herself, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas. “I’m scared, too.”

Beca flipped her palm and squeezed Chloe’s hand, her lips ticking upwards in a sad smile.

Chloe inhaled sharply as her hold tightened on Beca’s hand. “I need you to fight hard tonight, meleth. If you -- ” she blinked a couple times and Beca saw tears had gathered in Chloe’s eyes. “If you die, I…”

Beca took a step closer, her forehead gently resting upon Chloe’s.

“Hey,” she whispered, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her thumb brushed over Chloe’s knuckles soothingly while her free hand rose to cup Chloe’s cheek. “I won’t. I’m a badass, remember?" She managed a smirk. "Besides, I know you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours. We don’t stray too far away from each other, alright?”

If she tilted her head up, Beca’s lips would touch Chloe’s. Beca’s insides warmed at the thought and her heart started pounding against her ribs. Her breathing stilled in her lungs and her eyes dropped to Chloe’s lips for half a second before she caught herself.

The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Chloe, who drew in a sharp breath, her own eyes full of questions. “Beca, I...”

When Chloe trailed of, Beca forgot about everything else around them. The army, the battle, her possible death. She lost herself in the soothing blue of Chloe’s eyes and felt her resolve give in to that craving which had only grown over the last few months.

Beca craned her neck to brush a soft, hesitant kiss across Chloe’s lips, her eyes fluttering shut as the most peculiar sensation spread through her.

It wasn’t fireworks, or anything as epic as Beca imagined kissing her soulmate for the first time might trigger; heat spread through every corner of her being, as though her body and soul were being wrapped up in a warm, soothing blanket. It only heightened when Chloe kissed her back just as tenderly, one hand curling around Beca’s hip to tug her closer.

_Holy shit_, Chloe was kissing her back.

As the liplock came to its natural end and they parted a few beats later, Beca’s eyes remained shut for a few beats, afraid it might have all been a figment of her imagination. But Chloe was still there, staring at her curiously when Beca found the courage to force her lids open.

Beca cleared her throat, finding herself self-conscious all of the sudden. Her lips were still tingling from the best kiss she’d ever had and her brain had yet to catch up with the crazy fact that she’d just kissed the elf. “I, uh… I hope that was alright.”

By that, she meant making the move to kiss Chloe and not the actual kiss and realized a bit later Chloe might interpret it the wrong way.

But the look in Chloe’s eyes as she gazed at Beca, as though Beca was her entire world, made Beca’s heart triple in size. “Yes. More than alright.”

Beca grinned, squeezing Chloe’s hand. She had so many questions to ask about what being Chloe’s thiramin meant, but a horn sounded in the distance before she could form words. Her head swiveled towards the open valley and her spine snapped straight.

Right. The battle.

"The orcs..."

Chloe shook her head. “That is no orc horn.”

Before Beca could ask what she meant by that, Chloe was tugging her down the stairs and towards the main gates. Beca blinked when she saw who stood by the entrance.

Haldir. The elf from Lothlorien. He was there, in Helm’s Deep with four or five hundred elves in armors.

Aragorn and Legolas strode down to meet him, equally stunned by his presence.

“I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell,” Haldir spoke with eloquance. “An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together.” He smiled. “We come to honor that allegiance.”

Now _that_ was badass. Beca was so relieved they were getting help, she could have kissed Haldir. Judging from the way Aragorn lit up, Beca was pretty sure he was thinking of doing the same thing. She stifled a chuckle when Aragorn suddenly stepped up and hugged the elf, Haldir’s eyes widening in surprise as he awkwardly patted Aragorn’s shoulder in return.

“You are most welcome!” Aragorn exclaimed as he pulled away. Duh. They were pretty much doomed without these skilled warriors fighting by their side.

“Come, Beca. We need to get our weapons,” Chloe reminded her, squeezing Beca’s hand. They walked back to the armory, weaving through the crowd to where they had left their stuff. Beca’s sword had just been shaperned by the blacksmith, as well as her knives, which she tucked inside her belt pouch save for one. She slid that one in her boot, though she wished she had one of those straps Lara Croft's got around her thigh to hold her gun.

A gun would be pretty handy too, come to think of it.

"Here, lassie." Beca turned around to find Gimli holding a chainmail. "This should work out for you. Protects you from getting pierced by a blade while granting you more speed that those armored Uruks."

Beca took the chainmail, head bobbing down in a grateful nod. "Thank you, Gimli." She unlaced her vest and undid her belt, giving both to Chloe to put the chain mail over her tunic. It was heavier than she initially thought, but she'd rather wear it to keep her guts from spilling out if she got stabbed.

"Every soldier to the battlements!" One of the King's men instructed a few minutes later and Beca felt her heart lurch to her throat. She followed Chloe, Legolas and Gimli up the stairs. They stopped next to Aragorn, first in line behind the parapet, a row of elves standing ten feet behind them. Beca slung her bow over her shoulder, holding onto its handle tightly.

The cold was biting, each puff of breath forming a cloud of smoke in the air. A sea of flames was slowly progressing towards them, the beat of those Uruk's determined steps growing louder with each minute, matching the pounding of Beca's heart against her ribs.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas said, his gaze locked on the army approaching.

"Let's just hope we last the night..." Gimli added as he held onto his axe.

Beca inhaled sharply, feeling the nerves prick under her fingertipes despite the numbing cold. Delicate fingers wrapped around her own causing Beca to glance to her left.

"Don't forget to breathe before you release your arrow. The moon is behind us, that gives us an advantage over them. Stay close to me, okay?"

Beca nodded and squeezed Chloe's fingers. The angry screeches of their opponants growing louder as they neared snapped Beca's attention ahead. As though the cold wasn't enough, a crack of thunder tore through the sky seconds before the pitter-patter of raindrops against stone and armor hit Beca's ears.

"_ A eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas,” _Aragorn spoke as the army of Uruks stopped at the edge of the wall.

“Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none,” Chloe translated, releasing Beca's hand to notch an arrow.

Beca wasn't planning on showing these soulless creatures any pity.

She was more than ready to slice some uruk's necks open.

No mercy. No _fear_.


	13. A Red Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry about the six week hiatus. Life happened and I was nowhere near the right state of mind to write out a battle scene. Helm's Deep is one of my favorite parts of LOTR, here are the links to the movie scenes if you want to get yourself in the mood before reading this chapter. 
> 
> [part one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78IJdhvY1zg)  
[part two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5wABDrzg9I)  
[part three](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QTJLXlk_IHU&t)

A cold, grim silence settled over them as the orc army stopped before the walls. Nobody dared moving. 

A growl shattered the silence. Then another, and another, each louder and echoing within Beca’s chest as her heart thundered. Spears started hitting the ground in a rhythmic manner as their screeches carried throughout the valley. Each soldier of Rohan drew their bow, waiting for the order to fire from their commanding officer. 

“What’s happening out there?” Gimli asked, jumping up to try and get a glimpse past the wall which stood a head taller than him. 

“Shall I describe to you?” Legolas replied, amusement leaking in his tone. “Or would you like me to find you a box?” 

Gimli’s bright laughter made Beca crack a grin, shattering the tension looming over her shoulders. “Care to have a friendly wager on our respective kill counts, princeling?”

“Only if you’re alright with defeat, master Darf,” Legolas murmured smugly as he peered into the distance, his features serene as always. 

“I’m in, too,” Beca spoke up, drawing two surprised sets of eyes. “What? Need I remind you I killed five wargs today?” 

“Careful meleth, the success might have gone to your head,” Chloe teased beside her, pulling a chuckle from Beca. 

The banter came to an abrupt stop when one of the villagers let go of his arrow without waiting for the command, hitting an orc square in its neck. 

Aragorn shouted something in Elvish, holding up his hand in a holding signal as silence fell over the valley. The beast grunted and swayed on its feet before face-planting on the ground. 

Okay. 1 down, 9,999 to go. 

The menacing sounds resumed, louder and more intimidating. They were angry. The uruk-hai general, standing on top of a large rock, motionned for the army to progress forward, and Beca raised her bow at Aragorn’s signal, putting her slight shake to a stop by releasing a much needed breath. 

_ “Hado i philinn!” _Aragorn yelled, the hundreds of arrows buzzing towards their enemies down below making Beca’s ears ring. Pride bloomed in her chest when hers found a target, the orc dropping to the ground a beat later. 

“Did they hit anything??” Gimli asked, gripping his axe tighter and squirming in anticipation. 

Beca notched another arrow, killing one more. She tried to keep count, but it was mostly to remain focused than for their silly bet. 

The uruks retaliated with crossbows, hitting several elves standing behind Beca. 

“Ladders!” Aragorn shouted as he glanced down and sure enough, a dozen ladders sprung up against the castle battlements. “Swords! Swords!” 

Beca tucked her bow away and unsheathed her freshly sharpened sword, getting her stance ready to strike the first beast making it to the top of the ladder closest to her. She made her first swing, effectively knocking the orc from the ladder and sending it tumbling thirty feet down. 

“Legolas! Two already!” She heard Gimli’s shout somewhere on her left. 

“I’m on seventeen!” Came the elf’s smug reply a few seconds later. 

“And I’m still alive!” 

Beca’s cry was ignored as Gimli grunted in irritation, swinging his axe right between an orc’s legs. "I'll have no pointy ears outscoring me!" 

As more orcs and uruks came their way, Beca used every tactic at her disposal, blocking and slicing, keeping the stab if she could aim for the face or neck. The fact that she was tiny and wore a less heavy armor than her opponents indeed made her quicker and more agile, and she used that to her advantage, kicking a leg out to sweep an orc’s from beneath it or ducking beneath their arms and shoving them over the wall. 

The rain was still beating hard over them as the battle progressed into the depth of the night. Beca couldn’t tell how long it had been, or how many she had killed thus far, but there was so much blood, so much screaming. 

People were dying around her and Beca had no idea how she was still standing. Her focus thinned as she let herself get overwhelmed by the sounds of agony, and a swing from her right caught her off guard. 

She lost her balance and landed on the ground, eyes wide as she watched the uruk raise his axe to no doubt slice her into two. With cat-like reflexes, Beca rolled out of aim and grabbed the dagger tucked inside her boot, driving it into the beast’s calf. The stab, while not fatal, provided enough distraction for her to scramble to her feet and embed that same dagger into its neck. Black blood sprayed over her tunic and her face scrunched up in disgust as she retrieved her dagger, blocking an attack coming from behind in the next beat. 

While she knew she shouldn’t let what was left of her focus stray away, Beca couldn’t help but glance towards Chloe to make sure she was still standing. She was so fucking thankful she chose that specific second to do so, as Chloe was too busy shooting arrows to take down the assaillants climbing up the ladders to see the attack coming from behind. 

Beca threw her bloodied dagger and, by whatever miracle, managed to lodge it into the space between the orc’s armor and helmet, bursting its carotide like the last one. Chloe looked behind her in surprise, glancing at Beca. “I’ve got your back Chloe, keep shooting ‘em!” 

They fought together seamlessly over the next handful of minutes, Beca remaining close to the elf and doing as best as she could to block the attacks before they could throw Chloe off her game. She heard Aragorn shout orders in Sindarin and felt Chloe switch her shooting angle, but didn’t look over her shoulder to see what was going on. 

“Fifteen,” Beca muttered under her breath as she stabbed another beast. 

“Thirty-one,” Chloe fired back. 

Beca managed a chuckle between two pants. “Oh come on, you’re ly--” 

Her sentence was cut short when the ground quaked beneath her, throwing her off her feet. An explosion rang out and stone debris landed around them as part of the wall crumbled. Beca’s ears buzzed as she groaned, her cheek pressed against the cool stone underneath her. Her head was swimming with dizziness and pain, but her brain urged her to get up. 

“Meleth!” A pair of arms gripped hers and helped her to feet. Beca’s vision settled following a stretch of blurriness, Chloe’s blue eyes filled with worry shifting into focus. “Are you alright??”

Beca doubled over before she could answer, emptying her stomach by her feet. She breathed heavily, her entire body shaking from the adrenaline flooding out of her and the cold rain seeping into her bones. 

“I’m good.” She straightened with a groan, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. Her head was pounding. 

“They made a breach in the deeping wall!” Legolas shouted as he bent over the wall to look down at the damage, Beca presumed. She unsteadily rushed to the edge to get a look herself. A group of uruk-hais were trying to get through the gates, huddled in formation. A battering ram sprang out between their shields and collided with the wooden gates of the castles. 

“Brace the gates!” The order came from somewhere above them; the King. 

“Shit,” Beca breathed, watching on helplessly as another group began streaming in through the massive hole in the wall, right below them. More sprung up on them at the top of the battlements with their ladders and she and Chloe stood close as they did before, slicing and blocking. 

Despite their drive and skill however, it quickly became obvious that the fellowship and their allies would soon be out of their depth. They were losing the wall as orcs kept coming, as though reincarnating once they’d been killed. 

“Aragorn! Fall back to the keep! Get your men out of there!” The King bellowed.

Chloe seized Beca’s arm as soon as Aragorn gave the order, tugging her towards safety. 

"What are you doing? What are you stopping for?!" Gimli shouted in indignation while two elves dragged him away from the heart of battle. 

Everyone abandoned their position to retreat inside the keep and the heavy doors were shut and barricaded behind them. 

Beca welcomed the fighting break, breathing heavily as she doubled over once more, bracing her hands on her knees. She could hear the echo of the ram colliding with the main gates down the hall of the keep, the wood splintering with each blow. 

They were minutes away from being invaded. A sea of orcs, thousands of them still standing, would soon swarm in and kill what little was left of them. 

“Meleth.” Chloe’s voice drew Beca away from her spiraling thoughts. “Let me check your head.” 

“What’s the point?” Beca snapped before she could help it. “We won’t even make it ‘til sunrise, Chlo.” 

“Don’t say that,” Chloe spoke softly, a frown creasing the space between her eyebrows as she examined the gash on the side of Beca’s head.

Beca scoffed. “What, the _ truth? _ There are _ thousands _ of them out there! Against hundreds of us.” She glanced around her; injured Men and Elves, some dying. The thought that she’d be one of them soon made her want to throw up again. 

Chloe’s mouth opened and closed, no sound escaping. She couldn’t contradict Beca, and that fact made their reality sink in further. Chloe was always the optimistic one, but she knew Beca was right. 

“Fuck,” Beca breathed, unable to prevent the sudden shake in her hands as she lifted them to cover her face. 

“The fortress is taken. It is over.” Beca cast a glance to her left to see King Théoden leaning heavily against the wall, defeated. 

Men started carrying whatever they could find to brace the gates, tables, beams; anything to keep the enemy back as long as possible. 

“You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!” Aragorn snapped urgently. “They still defend it! They have died defending it!”

Beca had to give it to Aragorn, he was a true leader. More so than King Théoden. His words lifted her spirits slightly, sparking hope within her. 

It wasn’t the case for the King, apparently. “So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?” 

“Ride out with me,” Aragorn suggested, determination swirling in his eyes. Or madness, Beca couldn’t be sure. “Ride out and meet them.” 

Yep, madness. 

“He’s not serious, is he??” Beca hissed to Chloe and Legolas. 

The King nodded his head firmly, life suddenly seeping back into him. “For death and glory.” 

“The sun is rising,” Gimli noted, and Beca snapped her head towards the window, where pink and orange hues swirled in the sky. 

Was is morning already? 

“Is there another way for the women and children to get out of the caves?” Aragorn rushed out. 

“They can escape through the mountain pass,” One of the King’s advisors said. “But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many.”

Aragorn nodded. “Lostariel, Beca.” Beca snapped her head towards their leader. “Take a company of elves with you, lead the women and children to safety. Barricade the entrance to the caves.” 

Chloe nodded and spoke to the elf next to her in Sindarin, and soon, about three dozens of elves were following the pair down towards the caves. 

Women and children were gathered by the far wall, shaking and crying. Eowyn rushed over when she spotted them. “They got through the Deeping Wall!” 

“We’re to make for the mountain pass while the King and his men ride out to meet them,” Chloe told the young woman with incredible calm. “Start leading the women and children out, Eowyn. We’ll barricade the entrance as best we can and hold the Uruks back if needed.” 

Eowyn nodded, swallowing heavily as she turned to her companions. Chloe ordered half of the elves to go with her while the others made trips to get rocks and beams to slow Saruman’s army down if they ever found the hidden entrance to the caves. 

“Beca, let’s go!” Chloe shouted a handful of minutes later once they had done their best barricading the gap. Beca nodded and followed Chloe towards the other end of the caves. 

They jogged to catch up with the women and children, Beca’s legs somehow still able to carry her despite how stiff they felt. As they squeezed through the narrow passage leading towards the mountain pass, a chorus of shouts and cheers echoed throughout the valley, rattling Beca’s heart. 

“The uruk-hais are retreating!” An elf shouted from his spot a few hundred feet ahead from where he could see out in the valley. 

“What?” Beca choked out in utter shock, her shoulders sagging in time with her jaw dropping.

“We won!” Another one cried, throwing a fist in the air. 

Beca somehow found the energy to run up the steep trail, wanting to see it with her own eyes. “Holy shit.” 

It seemed that Gandalf had found reinforcements. Hundreds of riders could be seen in the distance while tiny dots -- the orcs and uruk-hais, Beca guessed -- moved farther away, towards the forest. 

A body barreled into her, hugging her from behind. Beca let out a disbelieving chuckle as she reached up to wrap a hand around one of Chloe’s arms around her shoulders while the elf tucked her chin into the crook of Beca’s neck. Letting her eyes flutter shut, Beca breathed properly for the first times since the start of battle. 

They had won. 

Shortly after, they made their way back towards the smokey valley and through the breach in the Deeping Wall. The hundreds, _ thousands _ of dead bodies laying on the ground and the intense stench of blood mingling with char made Beca’s stomach twist as anger filled her entire being. She found herself wishing nothing more than to stop the evil force causing so much death. 

She and Chloe found Legolas and Gimli soon after. Gimili sat on a dead orc’s chest while smoking his pipe, Legolas standing before him. 

“Final count: forty-two.” 

“Forty-two?” Gimli echoed in what sounded like mock-admiration. “That’s not bad for a pointy-eared elvish princeling. I myself am sitting pretty on forty-_three_.” 

Before any of them could react, Legolas reached into his quiver and notched an arrow at lightspeed, shooting it straight between Gimli legs into the dead orc’s side. 

“Forty-three,” Legolas stated smugly. 

Gimli pinned him with a look. “It was already dead.” 

“It was twitching,” Legolas argued while Beca and Chloe shared a look. 

_ Boys. _

“It was twitching because it has my _ axe _ embedded in its nervous system!” Gimli demonstrated, gripping the end of his axe and shaking it. The orc’s limbs twitched with the motion. 

Beca let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. 

“I shall see if I can help the wounded in the healing ward.” Chloe’s voice drew Beca’s attention away from Legolas and Gimli’s silly contest. 

While Beca’s body screamed for some rest, she wanted to help as much as she could. She was also reluctant to leave Chloe’s side. “I’ll help you.” 

Over the next couple hours, Beca assisted Chloe and the other healers, mostly giving water and porridge to the injured soldiers or passing out blankets. 

“Your turn,” Chloe said around what felt like midday, taking Beca’s hand and leading her to a nearby bench. 

“My turn?” Beca asked in confusion, remembering her head wound only a beat later. “I’m fine, honestly.” 

“You threw up. It’s likely you suffered a concussion, meleth.” Chloe’s tone left no room for objection and Beca sat down with a sigh, hissing when Chloe brushed her fingers just above the gash. She probably had a nasty bruise forming. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Beca murmured, closing her eyes as Chloe squeezed a soaked cloth above the wound, the previously boiled water cleaning it from any foreign bodies. 

“It doesn’t look like you need any stitches.” Chloe applied some cool paste on it which soothed the dull ache. Clay, Beca guessed as she learned it had various healing powers. 

“Too bad that badass scar is going to be hidden by my hair,” Beca grumbled playfully, pulling a soft chuckle from Chloe. Eowyn came by shortly after to give her some warm porridge and bread. After eating a few spoonfuls, Beca handed it to Chloe. “Here, have some.” 

Now that the adrenaline had pumped out of her system and her stomach felt somewhat full, Beca realized how exhausted she truly was. She struggled to remain awake as healers bustled around them, snapping her eyes up when Eowyn came back. 

“Follow me,” she told Beca and Chloe, waving her hand towards herself. They followed the blonde woman out of the keep, up a stone staircase and down a hallway. Eowyn opened the door to a large room, where a dozen cots had been set up on the floor, organized in two rows. “Aragorn entrusted me to make sure his companions got some rest as your journey will resume tomorrow. You will find clean nightgowns on each cot and there’s a bucket of warm water and some soap to wash up.” 

“Thank you,” Beca said, casting Eowyn a grateful smile. She toed off her boots and unfastened her sword from around her waist, setting her weapon down on the ground next to one of the straw beds. Then, she padded to the pitcher of water and washed her hands and face from the grime of battle, feeling a little bit more like herself once her skin was free of dried blood, smoke streaks and mud. She gathered her hair in a messy bun and walked back to her cot, quietly shedding her clothes and sliding the nightgown on. Her body bore various cuts and bruises and she knew she would feel the strain when she woke up. 

“Are you alright?” Chloe asked from behind her, and Beca noted the elf had washed up as well while she was changing. Her hand slid into Beca’s, the pad of her thumb grazing her skin back and forth. 

“Yeah,” Beca murmured, mustering a soft smile to reassure Chloe. “Just need to get some sleep.” 

She wondered if Chloe felt at all the need to rest after such a long fight, since elves technically didn’t need to sleep. 

“Of course.” Chloe smiled, lifting their joined hands to brush a kiss to Beca’s knuckles. She pressed another to Beca’s forehead and Beca felt herself lean into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut. The softness of Chloe’s lips brought her back to the kiss they shared before, something she had pushed to the back of her mind as she needed to focus on the battle. She craved it yet again, that feeling of unparalleled comfort and warmth it had brought her. Like… like she was _home_. “Losto vae, meleth nîn.” 

Beca tugged on Chloe’s hand before she could step away, pushing a soft kiss against Chloe’s lips. “Goodnight, Chlo.” 


	14. May It Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm very sorry about the delay on this. I hope this chapter will be worth the wait! 
> 
> Second, here's Chloe's [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJVxEaGrHS4) when you get to it.

Beca woke up in a cold sweat sometime during the night, jolting to consciousness right after that filthy uruk stabbed Chloe. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she glanced to her right to see the elf sleeping -- or resting -- peacefully. 

Beca’s shoulders slumped. Just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare, and Chloe hadn’t been killed. 

The other cots had been filled while she slept, and Beca could hear Gimli’s loud snoring coming from somewhere near the windows. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, Beca quietly slipped out from under the sheet and crossed the short distance to Chloe’s cot. 

She was craving TLC. Like, big time. The Beca version from modern world would probably call her a wuss, but after everything Beca had seen and experienced in the last few months, she was okay with being a little bit weak and reaching out for someone to lean on. 

Especially when that someone happened to be the sweetest, kindest, most caring person Beca had ever met. 

She carefully laid down next to Chloe, whose eyes slid open and stared at Beca questioningly. “Are you alright?” She asked quietly, shifting to make Beca some room. “Is it your head?” 

“No, my head feels fine,” Beca whispered back. “I just had a nightmare and didn’t wanna be on my own.” 

“C’mere,” Chloe murmured, curling an arm around Beca waist and tugging her closer. 

The moonlight pouring in from the large windows allowed Beca to trace Chloe’s features. “Were you sleeping?” 

“No, just resting,” Chloe said. “Thinking.” 

“Thinking ‘bout what?” 

“Mmm, you, mostly.” 

Beca rolled her eyes, cracking an amused grin. “Cheese ball.” From the look on Chloe’s face, she had no idea what that meant, but didn’t ask. “Do you know where we’re going tomorrow?” 

“Most likely back to Edoras,” Chloe murmured. 

Beca hummed, admittedly not really caring about that piece of information after finding out she was the subject of Chloe’s thoughts. “So um… what _ exactly _ were you thinking about?” She reached out to trace the tip of Chloe’s pointy ear, retracting her hand immediately when Chloe jolted and gasped. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” The elf cleared her throat. “My ears are just very sensitive.” 

Beca raised an eyebrow, the true meaning behind that surfacing when she noticed the flush in Chloe’s cheeks. Oh. _ Oh. _“You mean… it turns you on?” 

Confusion stared back at her. “Pardon me?” 

Beca shuffled closer. “Does me touching your ear create a… pleasant sensation?” Chloe’s shudder just from hearing it was all the indication Beca needed. “Huh.” 

“Is that… not the same thing for humans?” 

“It doesn’t do much for me, but some people, yeah.” 

Chloe pursed her lips for a few beats. “What do _ you _enjoy?” 

Talking about what made Beca aroused in a room full of people was probably not the wisest choice. 

“Kissing,” Beca whispered. “On the lips, down my neck. Well, anywhere on my body, actually. Except my feet.” She scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, definitely not my feet.” 

“Oh.” That didn’t sound like a positive _ Oh. _ Oh _ god, _did Elves have foot fetishes?? 

“What is it?” Beca wondered softly. “You… _ like _feet?” 

“No, not particularly.” Chloe shrugged. “I was just curious. I don’t know much about humans, that’s all. I haven’t encountered many in my life.” 

Beca wanted to ask about the thiramin thing, because it seemed odd for a human and an elf to be soulmates, but again, she preferred to have that conversation when they were alone.

“Well I can’t speak for _ all _ humans but feel free to ask me anything when it pops up.” Beca stifled a yawn. “I should try to sleep for another few hours.” 

“Okay.” 

Chloe brushed a kiss to Beca’s forehead, and Beca wondered if those tender shows of affection would ever get old. Chloe shifted on her back and slid an arm around Beca’s shoulders, tugging her into her side. Beca’s head came to rest on Chloe’s chest, soon lulled to sleep by the rhythmic beating of her heartbeat. 

The fellowship set out as predicted early the following morning, only not to Edoras, but to Isengard, Saruman’s turf. The King and a few of his men were also part of the journey. 

After a gallop across the plains, the wizard slowed his horse Shadowfax to a walk and led them into Fangorn forest, where the orcs had fled to the morning before. Beca certainly hoped Gandalf knew what he was doing, because she wasn’t ready for another battle, especially not one against cannibalistic trees. 

Much like the last time they were there, the trees shifted in their presence, their murmurs and groans making Beca’s skin crawl uncomfortably. Her horse hesitated going forward when the leaves shook, and Beca had to encourage him with a press of the heels to his flanks. 

Gimli too looked unsure, glancing around him in suspicion while Chloe and Legolas seemed utterly captivated by the beauty surrounding them. 

Weirdos. 

Beca felt like she could breathe again once they made it to the other side unscathed. They continued on, reaching Isengard less than an hour later. Beca had lost any hope that they would ever see Merry and Pippin, and she thought her mind might be playing tricks to her when she saw two small figures sitting on a chunk of ruins by the gates. 

“Welcome my lords, to Isengard!” Merry greeted as he stood, bowing his head. Pippin was smoking from a pipe, holding some kind of meat in his free hand. 

Beca grinned so wide it felt like her face might split into two, her heart fit to burst from happiness and relief.

“Young rascals!” Gimli growled. “A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and-- and smoking!” 

“We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts,” Pippin said, his words muffled with the food he was chewing. “The salted pork is particularly good.”

Gimli seemingly forgot about his frustration at the mention of food. “S-salted pork?” 

“We're under orders from Treebeard, who’s taken over management of Isengard,” Merry explained, pointing towards the tower, the only building still standing among the flooded lands. 

Isengard looked like a no man’s land.

Gandalf rode forward, Pippin and Merry hopping behind Beca and Chloe on their horses. 

“Lady Beca!” The young hobbit cried as he hugged Beca from behind. “What did we miss??” 

Beca chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “I’ll catch you up later, Master Pippin. Glad to see you again.” She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have any of that salted pork left, do you?” 

Pippin grinned mischievously, reaching inside his jacket and producing something wrapped in paper. “Enjoy.” 

Beca froze mid-bite as a giant tree strode towards them, addressing Gandalf. 

“Huraroom ... Young Master Gandalf, I'm glad you've come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a wizard to be managed here ... Locked in his tower.” 

“Let's just have his head and be done with it,” Gimli said, and Beca for once could only agree with the master dwarf. 

The wizard stared up the length of the tower. “No. He has no power any more.” 

They continued on, Pippin distracting Beca with tales of he and Merry’s adventures with Treebeard, the giant tree they’d befriended. 

They reached Edoras just before nightfall, and after taking care of her horse, Beca was shown to her bedroom. She took a nice long bath (with soap!), scrubbing any leftover trace of smoke or dried blood from her skin. She wove her (clean!) hair in a braid so it wouldn’t puff out in a curl frenzy as it dried and was given a dark blue dress as spare clothing, the servant having left the room before Beca could ask for a better alternative. She laced her vest over it to conceal her cleavage a bit more, and slid her feet into her trusty boots (they were hidden by her dress anyway) before joining her companions for the buffet. 

The first waft of real food as Beca entered the hall made Beca’s mouth water. The villagers had roasted a lamb in celebration for the victory and Beca couldn’t wait to taste real meat after weeks of rabbit and elven bread. 

She produced a gasp when Legolas handed her a tankard of what looked like beer. _ Beer. _She hadn’t had a sip of that in over three months. 

“Ugh, I love you,” Beca muttered to the elf, who simply laughed in response as she took a large gulp. 

It was a bit warm, but so, _ so _ good. And pretty strong, too.

Her eyes snapped to Chloe when she entered the hall, and Beca swallowed heavily. Chloe wore a beautiful green velvety dress, her red hair pinned back on either side of her head and styled in soft curls over her shoulders. Green was definitely her color. She looked absolutely gorgeous, and Beca had to remind herself to keep her heart-eyes in check. 

When dinner was announced, Beca shuffled to stand between Chloe and Pippin at one of the tables set up. 

The King, standing next to his throne across the room, raised his own tankard. “Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Men and elves. We wouldn’t be standing here tonight if it weren’t for the alliance between us, and I’ve asked a friend of mine to pay all our fallen friends a tribute.” 

Beca watched on curiously as Chloe made her way down the path between the tables and came to a stop by the front of the room, hands folded in front of her. 

And then, she started to sing, and Beca forgot to breathe all together as Chloe’s angelic voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.

_ “May it be an evening star _

_ Shines down upon you _

_ May it be when darkness falls _

_ Your heart will be true _

_ You walk a lonely road _

_ Oh, how far you are from home _

_ Mornië utúlië ((darkness has come)) _

_ Believe and you will find your way _

_ Mornië alantië ((darkness has fallen)) _

_ A promise lives within you now _

_ May it be the shadows call _

_ Will fly away _

_ May it be your journey on _

_ To light the day _

_ When the night is overcome _

_ You may rise to find the sun _

_ Mornië utúlië ((darkness has come)) _

_ Believe and you will find your way _

_ Mornië alantië ((darkness has fallen)) _

_ A promise lives within you now _

_ A promise lives within you now.” _

Stunned silence settled upon the room once the last note faded away, and Beca realized just then she’d been crying this entire time. As she was watching Chloe sing, her gaze locked onto the elf’s, it felt as though time suspended. The world stilled except for the two of them, and Beca felt something peculiar; something marvelous and unstoppable. Like her heart opened up to something new, something that filled her with unparalleled warmth and bathed her in emotional peace. 

She was in love. She was in love with the most beautiful she’d ever met, except it felt much stronger than anything she’d experienced before. It felt right, like something inside her clicked into place.

Like she and Chloe were supposed to be together for eternity and beyond. 

“Hail the victorious dead!” 

The King’s booming voice barreled through Beca’s thoughts and she physically jolted, the crowd cheering around her. 

Beca followed suit as everyone downed their tankards. Oh boy. She hadn’t had any alcohol in a long time and needed to be careful about not drinking too fast. 

“When were you going to tell me you could sing?” Beca asked as Chloe took her seat beside her. She had thoroughly wiped her cheeks, feeling embarrassed about getting so emotional over a song. 

Chloe shrugged. “Revealing all my secrets at once wouldn’t be fun now, would it?” 

That made Beca raise an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me you’ve got more talents up your sleeve?” 

Chloe simply laughed, reaching under the table to squeeze Beca’s hand. 

The feast began shortly after, and for once since Beca’s arrival in Middle Earth, she let loose. The merry atmosphere got to her, and she forgot about home and the upcoming battles. She drank and ate until her belly felt full for the first time in weeks, laughing heartily at Pippin and Merry’s entertaining stories. 

“I’ll get us a refill,” Beca let Chloe know, squeezing her shoulder as she stood from the bench. 

“So it’s a drinking game?” Legolas asked Gimli just as she made it to the counter. 

The dwarf smirked. “Last one standing wins.” He glanced to Beca. “You in, lassie?” 

Beca laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. I’ve done enough of those in high school and most didn’t end well.” She turned to Legolas, lowering her tone. “Quick question for you. How do you say I love you in Elvish?” 

Legolas blinked, his gaze flickering to Chloe, then back to Beca. The wide smile breaking onto his face made Beca blush and roll her eyes. She wasn’t going to say it tonight, not after only realizing it less than an hour ago. But she wanted to know for the future. 

“_ Melin le.” _

“Melin le,” Beca repeated, nodding her head. “Thanks dude.” She then clapped both he and Gimli on the shoulder. “Good luck. May the best win.” 

After getting two tankards of ale, Beca sat back down at their table. Pippin and Merry had started singing and dancing on top of the wooden surface, and Beca looked around, seeing nothing but joy on everyone’s faces. It was nice to witness after all the horror these people had been through. 

Even Gandalf seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Beca started to crave some alone time with Chloe once they’d finished their tankards, and she squeezed Chloe’s hand under the table, glancing at her. “I think I’m ready to call it a night.” 

“I’ll walk you back to your chamber,” the elf said, standing up and leading Beca towards the exit. 

They wound through torch-lit hallways and staircases, eventually making it to Beca’s bedroom. She pushed the heavy wooden door open, a four poster bed standing in the middle of the descent-sized room. Candles and a fire had been lit while she was away, basking the space in a dimmed, romantic atmosphere.

“I shall see you in the morning, Meleth,” Chloe murmured, stepping closer to lay a kiss upon Beca’s forehead. 

Beca tightened her hold on Chloe’s hand, shaking her head. “Stay with me tonight?” 

The burning look in her eyes indicated sleep was the last thing on her mind, and realization seemed to dawn in Chloe’s. The elf gave a faint nod, blindly shutting the door behind her before bracing her hands on Beca’s hips. 

“How does your head feel?” 

Beca couldn’t be crossed with Chloe for being worried, even if her question cut through Beca’s lusty thoughts. “It’s fine, I promise,” she replied softly, looping her arms around Chloe’s neck and brushing a barely-there kiss to her lips. “Stop worrying, my love.” 

The term of endearment didn’t fall into deaf ears, and Beca witnessed the effect it had on Chloe as her eyes softened and a bright smile spread across her features. 

“Alright,” she murmured back, stepping closer and bumping her nose against Beca’s sweetly before dipping in to capture her lips. 

Her kiss, unlike the other ones they previously shared, was steeped in passion and desire, and it left Beca on a high for more. She parted her lips, her tongue flicking over Chloe’s bottom one to deepen their liplock. A groan echoed against the stones as their tongues slowly tangled, Chloe’s hands flexing at her waist. 

When the need for oxygen eventually set in, Beca backed away, resting her forehead against Chloe’s as she caught her breath. “Unlace me?” She asked, turning around and moving her braid over her shoulder so Chloe could untie the knot at the top of her dress and loosen the laces enough that Beca could shed her dress. 

Before she could though, Chloe started peppering kisses along her collarbone and the side of her neck, making Beca keel as her eyes fluttered shut. She pulled away after a little bit and allowed her dress to pool to the floor, now standing in her simple white underdress. 

Chloe reached out, running a finger along Beca’s collarbone until it found the strap of her underdress. She lowered it, then reached out with her other hand to do the same with the opposite, watching as the thin material joined Beca’s dress on the floor, leaving her completely bare to Chloe’s gaze. 

Beca had never really been comfortable with nudity, but this felt different. She _ wanted _ Chloe to see her without any clothes on, knowing Chloe would never judge how her body looked. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Chloe whispered as her hands found Beca’s waist, confirming Beca’s thoughts.

“Turn around,” Beca said, her voice coming out raspier than usual, heavy with arousal. Chloe turned around and let Beca unlace the back of her dress. She pushed the velvety fabric off Chloe’s shoulders, shamelessly drinking in Chloe’s gorgeous curves and backside. The elf truly was perfect. “Jesus.” 

“What?” Chloe asked, her tone laced with confusion. She spun back around and Beca’s eyes dropped to her chest, then swept downwards. 

So Elves basically had the same parts as humans, save for their pointy ears. 

“Nothing,” Beca dismissed with a soft shake of her head. “You’re just… you’re so gorgeous and I can’t believe we’re about to do this.” 

Chloe giggled. She tilted her head to the side. “Fuck?” 

Beca flushed hard, heat sweeping over the back of her neck, her cheeks and all the way up to the tip of her ears. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. And I can’t believe you remember that, either.” 

Chloe simply grinned. “Shall we move to the bed?” 

“Y-yeah. Yes,” Beca managed, sudden nerves sprouting in the pit of her stomach. She walked to the bed and shuffled to lie in the middle, Chloe joining her shortly after and hovering above her. Beca reached up to cradle her jaw, puffing out a breath. “Your eyes are unbelievable.” 

Leaning down, Chloe fused their mouths together, one hand bracing her weight by Beca’s head while the other one trailed up and down her side as they kissed. Beca briefly wondered how many people Chloe had slept with, being a few thousand years old and all. She was probably very experienced, while Beca had only had sex twice. 

Neither was good. 

But she had the feeling it would be different tonight, if the sensations seizing her from kissing alone were any clue. 

Chloe’s hair fell like a curtain around them, and Beca reached up to tuck one side behind Chloe’s ear, her fingers brushing over its pointy tip in the process. 

Chloe’s moan was like music to Beca’s ear, and she grinned against the elf’s mouth. “You really like that, huh?” 

Chloe pulled away, nodding shakily. Dipping down once more, Chloe let her lips explore, down the side of Beca’s neck and the top of her chest in soft kisses. Beca craned her neck to give her better access, threading her fingers through Chloe’s red locks. 

“You’re really good at that,” Beca breathed with her eyes closed, a whimper surfacing from her throat when Chloe’s mouth moved on to her breast, rolling a nipple between her lips. _ “Shit.” _

She felt Chloe smirk against her skin and wanted to make a comment, but Chloe continued her way down without showing any intention of stopping, and Beca sucked in a sharp breath instead. When Chloe settled on her stomach between Beca’s legs, Beca swore she almost choked on her saliva. Nobody had ever gone down on her before, and her body strummed with anticipation. 

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when Chloe got started, and she grabbed a fistful of sheets to anchor herself as her hips chased for more. Sounds that felt foreign left her mouth over the next handful of minutes as Chloe worked her up, drawing out Beca’s pleasure without it feeling torturous. 

“Chlo, fuck, I’m close.” 

Chloe’s response was to groan against her, the vibration making Beca gasp. She fought to keep her eyes open as she felt her climax near, the sight of Chloe between her legs one that she wouldn’t likely forget. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, leaving her a quivering, sated mess. 

A disbelieving chuckle puffed out once she came down, Chloe making her way back up and leaving kisses along Beca’s body in her wake. She didn’t know if it was the soulmate thing or just the fact that Chloe was amazing at this, but Beca’s body had never been on such a high. 

She curled into Chloe, sighing contently as Chloe wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. “Are you alright, Meleth?”

“Mhm,” Beca hummed, pressing a kiss to Chloe’s neck. 

Once she’d regained feeling in her limbs, Beca captured Chloe’s lips in a searing kiss, swiftly rolling on top of her. “Your turn.” 

Sleep wouldn’t be on the agenda anytime soon. 


	15. Some Reprieve At Last

Beca’s nose scrunched up and her eyes screwed tighter against the morning light filtering through the high windows. She burrowed herself deeper into the warm cocoon provided by the blankets and the _ naked _ body pressed snugly against hers. 

A soft, lazy smile curved her lips. 

Her own body ached in all the right places after the few hours she and Chloe spent pleasuring each other last night. She felt rested though, more so than in ages, and figured it was a combination of the lovemaking and Chloe’s presence. 

Knowing she wouldn’t go back to sleep now that thoughts of lovemaking wormed their way into her mind, Beca shifted to lie on her opposite side, facing Chloe. She leaned in and brushed soft, featherlight kisses over Chloe’s chin, the corner of her mouth, the tip of her nose and, since she really couldn’t resist, one to the tip of her ear. She knew Chloe was awake as elves didn’t need to sleep, and her soft groan made Beca grin impishly. 

Pulling away, she rested her head back on the pillow and met Chloe’s vibrant blue eyes when they opened. “Morning, my love.” 

Chloe’s smile made her heart flutter hard. She braced her hand on Beca’s waist under the sheets. “I love when you call me that.” 

“Yeah?” Beca smirked, covering Chloe’s hand with her own. “I _ can’t _believe you called me that for over a month without telling me what it meant.” 

“I was going to tell you,” Chloe murmured, that blush creeping on her cheeks downright adorable. “I just didn’t know how to.” 

“You were just waiting for me to make the first move,” Beca teased. She sobered up a beat later, remembering their soulmate talk a few days back. “So this _thiramin _ thing… was it immediate for you? Like, you could tell right away when you first saw me?” 

“Yes. Even before that. I felt… odd the day leading up to your arrival. And when our eyes first met, I suddenly felt at peace, and that’s when I knew.”

Beca nodded, figuring Chloe had felt the same thing she did back during Chloe’s song. “And um, is that common? An elf and a human being soulmates?” 

“I don’t know about common, but it’s possible,” Chloe said. “As I said, thiramins come in all shapes and forms. Sometimes it’s a platonic bond, such as between an elf and their horse.” 

Beca hummed, her mind reeling with many more questions. She tucked them away for now, prefering to enjoy a cozy moment with Chloe instead of stressing out about what this all meant since they belonged to two very different worlds. 

She lifted her hand to cup Chloe’s cheek, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “Good morning.” 

“You said that,” Chloe reminded her softly, nudging Beca’s nose with her own. _ “Arduil vaer, Melethnin.” _

Chloe speaking Elvish in that raspy, sexy tone sent a chill down Beca’s spine. She tilted her head up to fuse their lips together in a slow, languid kiss which worked to wake every cell in her body. 

“Is it just me or… was last night… intense? In a very, _ very _ good way,” Beca said when they parted, slightly out of breath and blush coloring her cheeks over her words. 

She kind of wanted to know if it felt as incredible to Chloe as it did to her. 

“It’s not just you,” Chloe confirmed, bumping her nose against Beca’s. “And that’s another soulmate thing. No matter how many people you’ve been with previously, the connection between soulmates is always stronger.” 

Beca raised an eyebrow at that, the hint of a smirk appearing on her lips. “So you’re telling me I can’t take any credit for making you come twice last night?” 

“Not at all,” Chloe giggled. “But I would not be opposed to you showing me one more time how… _ intense _it can be.” 

Emitting a soft groan, Beca kissed Chloe again, pouring every ounce of passion and desire into the liplock. Her hand drifted down, slipping under the sheet to run along Chloe’s side, across her stomach and down between her legs, which parted when Chloe registered Beca’s intentions. 

The wetness that Beca found there made her hum into the kiss, her fingers rubbing in gentle circles for a little bit, spreading Chloe’s essence more evenly. 

_ “Amba,” _ Chloe breathed across her mouth, seemingly forgetting Beca wasn’t fluent in Elvish. A beat later, she added, “More.” 

Beca slid one finger inside Chloe’s wet heat, the same rush coursing through her veins as last night when she did that for the first time. She took her time, thrusting in and out slowly before adding her middle finger to the mix. Their breathing turned too chopped for any more heavy kissing, and Beca kicked the sheet away so she could have an unobstructed view of Chloe’s bare body. 

“Beca,” Chloe whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut and her lips parting as a moan spilled out. 

Beca leaned froward and started peppering kisses along the shell of Chloe’s ear. Her tongue darted out, Chloe’s hips bucking forward as she licked the pointy tip, then took it between her lips and suckled. 

Chloe’s hand shot out to grip Beca’s bicep, nails digging into her skin as she all but started riding Beca’s fingers. All Beca had to do was twist and curl them at the right time while keeping up with her ministrations on Chloe’s ear. 

Elvish words spilled out of Chloe’s mouth in a broken cry seconds before she clenched around Beca’s fingers, her back arching off the bed. Beca stroked her down, keeping her gaze locked on Chloe’s expression as she relaxed and let out a soft, sated sigh. 

Yep. This right there might be Beca’s new favorite way to start the day. 

*

After another hour spent in bed making love and snuggling, she and Chloe headed down to the Golden Hall for some breakfast. Beca still had that _ cat who ate the canary _ smile stuck to her face, which earned a few odd looks from her companions. 

“What?” She asked as she plopped down across Aragorn and Gimli with a bowl of porridge, noting their incredulous expressions. 

“You’re smiling,” Aragorn observed, tone laced with confusion. “Are you well?” 

“Hey, I’ve smiled before,” Beca retorted in mild-offense, glaring at her companions when they glanced at each other with skepticism. “Screw you,” she grumbled upon realizing they were right. 

“Ah, there she is,” Gimli quipped with a hearty laugh. 

“Where are Pippin and Merry?” She asked after a minute, glancing around the room for the two hobbits.

“Gandalf took Pippin with him to Minas Tirith,” Aragorn said in a solemn tone.

“Minas Tirith? What’s that?”

“The capital of Gondor. We believe it’s Sauron’s next target. Gandalf rode out to warn them.” 

Beca’s eyes widened, her spine snapping straighter. “Why aren’t _ we _ going??” 

“We will,” Aragorn stated confidently. “We’re just waiting for the signal and order of King Théoden.” 

“Look at you lassie,” Gimli piped up, a proud grin stretching across his features. “Eager to go back into battle.”

“Hell yeah,” Beca confirmed without a second’s thought, her tone fierce and determined. 

She realized just then how far she’d come since landing in Middle Earth. From the lost, weak college girl to a warrior. 

Ready to fight, ready to defeat evil, even if it meant meeting her own death in the process. 

*

Over the next few days, the company got some much needed rest while they waited for Gandalf’s signal, in whatever form it was supposed to reach them. She could tell Aragorn was antsy as he was not used to just sit around doing _ nothing _, Merry seemed heartbroken without Pippin there, and Beca tried to cheer him up however she could. Gimli and Legolas bantered daily, as per usual. 

And she and Chloe, well… it blew Beca’s mind how easily they fell into being together. They spent most of their downtime attached to the hip, while still being mindful of PDA whenever they were around their companions. Behind closed doors however, they gave in to their urges without holding back. 

Beca quickly found out that elves had incredible stamina, and that it might be the death of her. 

“Jesus, _ dude,_” Beca panted, her chest raising up and down as she fought to catch her breath. Her limbs felt like jelly and her vision was still spotty from that mindblowing orgasm. “Time out.”

Chloe playfully nipped at Beca’s inner thigh before crawling up the length of her body and settling down beside her. “Are you alright, Meleth?” 

Chloe’s clear amusement mingling with smugness made Beca groan and roll her eyes. “Stop looking so smug, Elf.” 

Chloe shrugged. “I like fucking.” 

Beca barked out a laugh; the blunt expression sounded off coming from someone as pure and sweet as Chloe. “Mhm. I can tell.” 

Giggling, Chloe leaned in to kiss Beca’s bare shoulder, draping an arm around Beca’s middle as she curled up into her side. The sheets pooled to their waists, and Beca’s chest was fully exposed, but she couldn’t care less. The fire crackled in the corner, its heat sweeping over her glistening skin.

She slid an arm around Chloe’s back, running her fingers through her sleep and sex-mussed hair as they fell comfortably silent. Beca wasn’t sure what time of the day it was. She had sort of mentally felt out of this world and into an odd dimension of euphory over the past few days. 

Lost in their cozy bubble with no concept of time. 

“Do elves have… much sex?” Beca asked after a beat. “Like… just to have fun? Not in a marriage kind of setting.” 

Chloe had experience, she could tell that much. Jealousy pricked under Beca’s skin at the thought of Chloe being with loads of people like that. Not just _ ordinary _people like her kind, but elves. 

Disgustingly perfect elves. 

“Yes, some. But it doesn’t involve true feelings unless it’s with your soulmate. Only lust.” 

Beca hummed, her other hand stroking up and down Chloe’s forearm as Chloe’s reassurance worked to chase away her slight jealousy. 

Right. 

_ She _ was Chloe’s soulmate. That reminder filled her with unparalleled warmth.

Chloe reached out to trace the headphones tattoo on the inside of her wrist with the tip of her pointer finger. She always seemed intrigued by Beca’s tattoos. 

“Are tattoos not a thing in Middle Earth?” 

They were an ancestral form of art after all, so it wouldn’t surprise her if it was already customary. She knew Chloe didn’t have any, which made sense; she didn’t think elves would ever alter their natural form. They seemed too pure for that.

“Not in our culture,” Chloe’s answer confirmed Beca’s suspicions. 

“What would you get if you could?” Beca asked in curiosity, a smirk tickling the corners of her mouth. “The word _ Meleth _ inside of a heart?”

She yelped when Chloe started tickling her waist, squirming away from the merciless attack. Beca eventually managed to catch Chloe’s hand and pulled her into a kiss, hoping to distract her from anymore tickles. That seemed to work, as she felt Chloe melt into the liplock, her hand letting go of Beca’s to cradle Beca’s cheek.

Beca let out a soft, content sigh as they parted; she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so carefree and happy. She nuzzled Chloe’s nose sweetly, resting her forehead against hers as she basked into their soothing closeness. 

_ “Melin le,” _Beca murmured, a gentle smile curling at the corner of her mouth. For someone who had always struggled with cracking her heart open, this time around felt natural. 

Probably because she knew Chloe felt the same way. 

Chloe’s eyes sparkled as bright as a set of topaz stones, a matching smile gracing her features. She brushed a tender kiss to Beca’s lips. _ “Melin le, inyë_.” 

While she was expecting Chloe to reciprocate, the declaration still made Beca’s heart stutter. She chased Chloe’s mouth into another kiss, humming when Chloe swiftly rolled on top of her and deepened it with a flick of her tongue over Beca’s bottom lip.

“Where did you learn to say that?” Chloe spoke when they parted for breath. Beca was momentarily distracted by Chloe’s naked body pressed so snuggly against hers. 

“Legolas. I asked him the other day,” Beca admitted, blush sweeping over her cheeks. “Was kind of expecting the big brother talk, but he actually seemed pretty okay with it.” 

“It’s…” Chloe wrinkled her nose adorably. “How do you say? Sexy?” A beat later, she added, “When you speak Elvish.” 

“Oh yeah?” Beca smirked, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind Chloe’s ear and purposely brushing the tip. “Maybe I’ll ask Legolas for more words, then, so I can surprise you.” 

Chloe hummed. “Maybe we could also stop talking about my brother while I’m laying naked on top of you.” 

Beca snickered. “You’re the one who brought it up.” 

Hunger (for _ actual _ food) dragged them out of bed sometime after midday. Once sated, Beca put on her fur-lined cloak and grabbed her sketchbook. While it was barely spring yet, the sun was out, gracing Edoras with more bearable temperatures. She found a spot on a grassy area just outside of the Golden Hall, with a jaw-dropping panorama of the snow capped mountain range ahead. 

“Want some company?” She heard a while later as she added the finishing touches to her drawing. 

Looking over her shoulder, she found Chloe standing a dozen feet back. Beca nodded, patting the spot next to her. She wrapped her arm around Chloe’s back when she curled into her, welcoming the instant warmth that coursed through her. 

“This is exquisite,” Chloe mused aloud, her focus on Beca’s sketch. “You are very talented.”

Beca shrugged, as always awkward when receiving compliments. “I’m okay, I guess.” 

“Do you have drawings of your home?” 

Beca smiled, as always finding Chloe’s curiosity endearing. She flipped to the beginning of her sketchbook, until she found her drawing of a street in downtown Atlanta dating back from September. “That’s the main street of the city I live in. We have buildings, which are very high and narrow towers with a bunch of individual houses inside.” 

“So those houses… don’t have any gardens?” 

“No. The city has parks, though. But it’s nowhere as pretty as here.” 

Chloe hummed. “So where do they keep those steel horses you told me about? I forgot the name.” 

“Cars?” Beca provided. “Either in the street or in specific rooms we call a garage.”

“What’s your typical day like?” 

“I hate waking up in the morning,” Beca started with a soft chuckle. “We have those things we call shutters which block out the sun from coming inside through the windows, so I usually get up around mid-morning. I have a coffee for breakfast, then I head to class for most of the day. Then I go to the radio station and work there for a few hours.”

“What’s a radio station?” 

Beca scrunched up her nose, not sure how to explain that one. “It’s… something people can listen to on their phones, in their cars or at home on a small box, like the moving box, but without images. Just music. The person that works at the radio station picks songs that will play for anyone listening. It’s like… a concert that you can listen to from wherever you are.” 

She wasn’t sure it made any sense, but Chloe seemed to get it. 

“That sounds nice,” Chloe murmured. “Do you play any instruments?” 

“The guitar, yeah. It’s like a lute but bigger.” 

Chloe was silent for a while as she stared at the sketch, looking pensive. She eventually lifted her gaze back to Beca. “Do you think I’d like it there? Your world?” 

Her question threw Beca off; had Chloe too been thinking about what might happen when this was all over? 

Beca knew she had to be honest. As much as she wanted Chloe to come back with her if that were possible, Chloe would be unhappy there. 

“No,” she murmured with a pained smile. “It’s all concrete. The air is stenched with pollution, the noise would be overwhelming. We do have wide open spaces similar to here but… it’s not the same.” 

“Oh,” Chloe let out, sadness flickering in her eyes. She glanced back down to the sketchbook. “Did you draw Middle-Earth, too?” 

“Yeah,” Beca breathed, flipping a dozen pages (and blushing when she caught a glimpse of her nude sessions from back home) to her drawing of the elves of Rivendell training.

“Is that me?” Chloe asked, pointing to a female elf practicing archery. 

“Um, yeah,” Beca mumbled, her blush intensifying. 

Chloe smiled and turned the next page, which represented the fellowship of the ring. All eleven of them, before death and duty forced them apart. “I love this.” 

Beca forced a deep breath as Chloe continued looking at her drawings, from knives, swords and arrows to landscapes they were graced with throughout their journey. 

“What’s going to happen if… if we both survive and good overthrows evil? If I have no choice but to go back to my world?” 

Chloe froze for several beats, then met Beca’s eyes. “I… I don’t know.”

Beca swallowed thickly, the thought of leaving Chloe so heart wrenching she physically felt that pain spreading from her chest to every nerve ending. There were _ soulmates_. There _ had _ to be a way, if the universe had decided they belonged together. 

“We’ll find a way,” Beca murmured, cradling Chloe’s jaw and resting her forehead against hers. Hell, she’d made it this far against all odds, so she’d find a way to stay. Whatever it took. “I promise.” 

Chloe’s eyes fluttered shut and she nodded faintly, her fingers wrapping around Beca’s wrist. She closed the distance between them to lie a soft, lingering kiss on Beca’s lips. Upon parting, something caught Chloe’s eye over Beca’s shoulder. 

“The beacons,” she breathed, coaxing Beca into turning around to see what had stolen her attention. A fire burned on top of a faraway mountain, its flames reaching high enough to be visible from leagues away. “The beacons of Minas Tirith are lit!” 

“What does that mean??” Beca called while Chloe scrambled to her feet, jogging towards the Golden Hall just as Aragorn bolted up the steps towards the doors. Beca grabbed her sketchbook and followed, making it at the top of the stairs just in time to hear Aragorn’s urgent shout.

“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!” He braked to a stop in front of the King, who was discussing with his advisors at a table. “Gondor calls for aid.” 

Silence fell over the hall, tension building while the King processed that piece of information. 

“And Rohan will answer,” he declared a handful of seconds later, Beca puffing out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Muster the Rohirrim! Assemble the army at Dunharrow - as many men as can be found.” 

Beca felt Chloe slip her hand into hers, giving it a squeeze. 

Beca squeezed back. Whatever was ahead, she felt ready.

For the greater cause. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arduil vaer, Melethnin: good morning, my love  
Amba: More  
Melin le, inyë: I love you, too
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd be curious to hear your theories about the end of the story. Whether Beca stays in Middle-Earth, Chloe goes back with her, or if they're separated. It's already decided, but I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	16. Ghosts and Sea-longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, surprise. Managed to crank this out at the start of the week so uploading a few days early. Enjoy!

Shortly after the king’s decision, the soldiers hurried to get their horses ready to ride out of Edoras towards Dunharrow. Beca headed back to her chambers and changed into her riding pants, white shirt and dark green tunic. She braided her hair back and tucked her sketchbook away in her pack before heading down to the stables to saddle Aquilo. 

Ugh, she was _ not _ looking forward to riding for several hours on end. 

She was pretty sure Aquilo felt the same way, with Beca being the equivalent of a sack of potatoes once in the saddle. It still baffled her that she had the guts to ride out into battle when those wargs attacked. 

Heaving the saddle onto her steed’s back, Beca then tightened the girth, momentarily distracted by Chloe, who was speaking Elvish to her own horse while scratching his forehead. 

“What is it?” Chloe asked when she noticed Beca’s attention on her, and Beca reminded herself to take the heart eyes down a notch, at least in public. 

“You’re adorable,” she murmured, low enough for only the elf to hear. She had forgotten about elves’ super hearing though, turning around when Legolas’ snicker reached her ears. “What’s so funny, pretty boy?” Beca asked with a playful glare. 

His eyebrows flew up at the nickname, and as Beca had predicted, it shut him up as he blushed and awkwardly went back to his own business. 

Beca mounted her horse as gracefully as she could, patting Aquilo’s neck for being so patient and not prancing around like some of the other horses who seemed overly excited about going into battle. 

Glancing around her as they prepared to leave, Beca didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sight of women and children bidding farewell to their husbands and fathers, knowing it was most likely the last time they would see each other again. . 

“Now is the hour!” Beca’s gaze snapped to Eomer, King Théoden’s nephew, who was astride his own horse at the front of the cavalry. “Riders of Rohan - oaths you have taken. Now, fulfil them all - to Lord and land!”

They rode all morning long, reaching Dunharrow mid-afternoon. Hundreds of men were already setting up camp, having come from all corners of Rohan to fight. Beca’s butt, back and legs hurt from riding, and she forgot how high up she was as she dismounted, her half-frozen toes nearly shattering as they met the hard ground. 

“Fuck,” she muttered, limping to the nearest post to tie Aquilo up. After untacking him, she spent a few minutes stroking his neck as he seemed anxious about something. Beca couldn’t blame him; this place made her feel uneasy, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint why. 

Spotting Legolas, Gimli and Chloe a dozen feet away, Beca joined them, coming to a stop beside Chloe.

“The horses are restless.” Legolas observed, nodding towards a rearing and whinnying horse fighting against his master pulling him forward in the distance, closer to the foot of the mountain. 

“They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain,” Eomer said as he set his saddle down. 

“That road there - where does that lead?” Gimli asked, saying aloud what Beca herself was wondering. 

“It is the road to the Dimholt,” Chloe replied, her own gazed fixed ahead towards the passage. “The door under the mountain.”

“None who venture there ever return,” Eomer muttered under his breath. “That mountain is evil.” 

_ Yikes. _ That’s probably why Beca felt nervous. 

“Good thing we’re not planning on taking that road,” Beca muttered as Eomer walked away, sharing a look with Chloe. 

She spoke too soon. Night settled over the camp, and they ate dinner by the fire, a grim silence surrounding them. Not enough soldiers had come. They were heading straight to defeat against the army of Mordor and this time… this time Beca didn’t think she’d be so lucky. 

“Aragorn is going on his own!” Gimli hissed as he rushed over, startling the two elves and Beca. 

“What? Where?” Beca asked in an urgent low tone, glancing around for their leader. 

“The door under the mountain!” Gimli whispered. 

Beca blinked. “Why-- why would he do that?” She noticed Legolas glance at Chloe, and instantly knew there was something they weren’t telling her. “Guys?” 

Legolas seemed uneasy. “Aragorn told me about the Dead Men who dwell in the mountains. They were cursed by Isildur to remain in Middle-Earth when they abandoned their oath to help him during the War of the Last Alliance,” he paused. “No one could call upon the Dead Army to aid them in their hours of need, as they would only answer to an Heir of Isildur.” 

“Wait…” Beca shook her head as that name rang a bell. “Isildur, as in... Aragorn’s ancestor?”

“Precisely,” Legolas confirmed. "_ He _can call upon them to fight with us.” 

“And he wants to go alone down that creepy ass road??” Beca straightened. “We need to go with him,” she insisted, surprising even herself. 

Gimli grinned around his pipe. “I’m starting to like you, lassie.” 

“_Starting? _” Beca echoed in mock offense, huffing a laugh when Gimli winked. 

Minutes later, as Aragorn led his horse Brego towards the path of the Dead, Gimli intercepted.

“And just where do you think you're off to?” 

Aragorn looked about to argue. “Not this time ... This time you must stay, my friend.”

“Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of Dwarves?” Legolas asked as he stepped forward, leading Arod. Beca and Aquilo followed, as did Chloe and Hasufel. 

“You might as well accept it - we're going with you, laddie.”

Beca nearly expected some sort of dramatic music to start following that heartwarming, selfless show of devotion, before remembering she wasn’t starring in a movie. 

Aragorn heavied out a sigh of resiliation, eventually nodding. The four of them mounted and rode past the ancient stones leading to the narrow pass, drawing stunned looks in their wake. Soldiers standing nearby started whispering as they watched on, confusion and worry arising upon witnessing the man who gave them so much hope ride away, into the darkness. 

Beca couldn’t suppress a shiver the further they rode forward; there was no wind, or birds. 

No sound except the dull thumping of the horses’ hoof echoing against the mountain walls. 

She had felt uneasy going into the Mines of Moria but this… knowing this place was home to a bunch of ghosts made her skin crawl with dread. 

The path ended in front of a door, its wide arch bearing an inscription. 

“The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the Dead keep it,” Chloe translated. “The way is shut.”

“Talk about a warm welcome,” Beca muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her saddle. 

“The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away,” Gimli whispered. 

A gust of bone-chilling wind made the horses spook, Aquilo suddenly rearing. Beca hit the ground with a hard thud as her horse galloped the way they came, followed by Brego, Arod and Hasufel, equally panicked. 

“Are you alright, Meleth?” Chloe asked as she walked over, offering a hand. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Beca grunted, pushing to her feet and dusting her butt off. 

Aragorn turned toward the doorway. “I do not fear death.” 

He strode into the darkness, quickly followed by Legolas and Chloe. 

Of course they didn’t fear death either, they were _ immortal_. 

That left she and Gimli, who looked at each other, before slipping inside with much less enthusiasm. 

Aragorn led them deeper, lighting the way with a torch as mist settled around them. Last in line, Beca couldn’t help but check over her shoulder every now and then, unable to shake off the feeling that they were being followed. 

“I’m not scared, I’m not scared, I’m not scared,” she mumbled quietly to herself, resisting the urge to run past Gimli and take Chloe’s hand. 

“What is it?” Gimli hissed to Legolas, tightening his hold on his axe. “What do you see?” 

“I see shapes of Men. And of horses.” 

Wait, _ what? _ All Beca could see was neverending fog. 

“Pale banners like shreds of cloud,” the elf continued, much to Beca’s dismay, who was ready to bolt the other way, back to the encampment. “Spears rise like winter-thickets through a shroud of mist.”

Slicing orcs’ necks, she could do. But dealing with ghosts? That was a lot creepier. 

“The Dead are following,” Legolas kept going. “They have been summoned.” 

"The Dead? Summoned?” Gimli nearly squeaked, catching himself a beat later. “I knew that."

Even Aragorn looked nervous, and that didn’t reassure Beca at _ all_. She gulped and forced her legs of lead to carry her forward. As though sensing her distress, Chloe stopped, waiting for her and slipping her hand inside Beca’s before continuing cautiously. 

Aragorn froze a dozen feet ahead. “Do not look down.” 

Beca felt something crack under her boot just as he spoke and, being who she was, glanced down. Bile rose in her throat but she forcefully pushed it back down. 

Skulls and bones. Littering the ground. 

Okay, _ now _ she was freaking out. 

“Chlo,” she murmured, her chest constricting in panic. 

“Focus on my touch,” Chloe instructed, her thumb rubbing over Beca’s knuckles. Beca closed her eyes and blindly followed, attempting to ignore the crunch of bones breaking under each of their steps. 

They eventually made it to normal ground, and Beca breathed a huge sigh of relief as her feet met stone. Aragorn’s pace quickened to a jog and Beca for once didn’t complain, eager as fuck to get the hell out of this hole. 

“_ Who enters my domain?” _ A booming voice called, making Beca jolt as all five of them froze, glancing around. 

Ahead, the green mist shaped into the rotting form of a man, mostly all bones, save for his gnarled face. 

Beca bit back a scream, tightening her hold on Chloe’s hand. 

“One who will have your allegiance,” Aragorn spoke, his voice steady and commanding. 

“The Dead do not suffer the living to pass." 

Aragorn did not back down. "You will suffer me."

Okay, it’s official; the dude had balls of _ steel_. 

The King of the Dead laughed like those villains in movies, and more mist appeared, taking the shapes of men. A whole army of them, as dead looking at their leader. Their ghoulish faces would probably haunt Beca’s dreams as they closed in on the company. 

“The way is shut,” the King said, advancing dangerously. “Now, you must die.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Abort. Abort. 

“Melin le,” Beca rushed out in a clipped whisper, squeezing Chloe’s fingers. This was it. There was no way they would make it out of there alive. 

"I summon you to fulfill your oath,” Aragorn pressed, seemingly not concerned they were all going to _ die. _

"None but the King of Gondor may command me!" The King strode forward, lifting his sword to strike. Aragorn blocked his blow, seizing the ghost’s throat. The King glanced down at Aragorn’s sword. “That line was broken.” 

“It has been remade,” Aragorn said, pushing him away, then turning around to address the rest of the Army. "Fight for us, and regain your honor. What say you?” 

Silence. Beca sucked in a sharp breath. 

“What say you?” Aragorn repeated, his impatience leaking in his tone. "What say you?! You have my word! Fight, and I will release you from this living death! What say you?!"

Slowly, the mist disappeared to nothingness. The ground started to quake under their feet and the walls crumbled, dissolving into thousands of skulls that rushed down towards them like an avalanche. 

“RUN!” 

In the chaos, Beca let go of Chloe’s hand. She kept up as best as she could, climbing through the piles of bones. Hell no, she wouldn’t be buried alive under _ skulls. _ Her legs struggled, and she gave a final push until her feet met hard ground once more. 

They ran until reaching the exit, spilling out on the other side of the mountain. Beca sucked in a huge gush of air, her hands shaking with a mixture of leftover fear and adrenaline. 

In the distance, a burning village. Black ships were sailing away after most likely setting it on fire. 

“Who are they?” Beca panted, glancing at Chloe and bracing herself for more bad news. 

“Corsair ships. Heading to Minas Tirith to help the Sauron’s army.” 

Ahead, Aragorn dropped to his knees, hanging his head. Beca’s guts sank; all of this for nothing. King Théoden and the Rohirrim would be slaughtered, and so would they, eventually. 

The ranger abruptly pushed to his feet in the next beat, turning around to face the mountain. Through its wall, the Kind of the Dead materialized, staring Aragorn down. 

“We fight.” 

Honestly, Beca would have hugged him if he wasn’t a freaking ghost. 

*

They soon trekked down the mountains, intercepting and taking over the ships with the help of their new ‘friends’, the Dead Army. Beca found it quite satisfactory to see that she wasn’t the only one (well, besides Gimli) freaked out by those ghosts, smirking as the corsairs scurried away, most of them voluntarily launching themselves overboard. 

Once in possession of the ships, the company sailed towards Gondor, a day away up the river Anduin, with the plan to attack from another road and surprise the Army of Mordor. On their way there, Beca couldn’t help but notice Chloe and Legolas acting weird. 

They were both quiet, staring out into the horizon. 

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Beca snapped her gaze away from her soulmate and looked up to find Aragorn standing there. She frowned, cocking her head to the side. “May I sit?” 

“Yeah dude, of course.” She waited for Aragorn to sit down on the bench beside her. “Apologize for what?” 

“I judged you before I got the chance to know you. When Gandalf told me someone from another world was to help on the quest, I argued that it was a terrible idea,” he paused, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I believed you’d be a burden more than an aid, and I’m truly sorry for that. You are as good a soldier as any of us.” 

Beca could definitely argue with that, but she accepted the compliment with a grateful nod, her chest soaring with pride. “For what it’s worth, _ I _ also thought me joining the quest was a _ terrible _ idea.”

They both chuckled at that, sharing a rare smile. Beca cleared her throat, nodding towards the pair sitting across the boat. “What’s going on with them?” 

“Sea-longing,” Aragorn said, then fell silent for a moment. “Has Lostariel ever told you about the Undying Lands?” 

“Legolas did. His soulmate is there, and he hopes he gets to go if we succeed.” 

Aragorn nodded solemnly. “The time of the elves on Middle-Earth is coming to an end. In Valinor, they get to live for eternity. The ones that stay behind will eventually fade.” He sighed. “Whenever they’re near a large body of water, such as this one, elves get sea-longing. They can hear the cry of the seagulls, taunting them to follow them to Valinor.” 

Acid settled on Beca’s tongue as Aragorn’s words sunk in. If the time of the elves on Middle-Earth was ending, then Chloe _ had _ to go to Valinor, right? Or else she would die. The question was… “Can humans go there, too?” 

“It is possible. But they can only dwell in Aman for a limited time - whether brief or long. The Valar has neither the power nor the right to confer 'immortality' upon them.” 

Beca felt a lump rise in her throat and tears burn behind her eyes. She glanced back towards Chloe, her heart cracking in her chest when she realized she just wasn’t enough. 

“Right. Excuse me, I’m uh, I’m gonna try to catch some rest.” 

She headed down to the cabin without waiting for a reply, closing the door behind her and leaning her forehead against it as she attempted to breathe in and out slowly. 

So there was no solution to their conundrum, was there? Even if Beca stayed in Middle-Earth, Chloe would only be happy for a handful of decades (which, being three thousand years old, probably didn’t feel like much time), eventually abandoned with a broken heart once Beca passed away. 

“Fuck,” Beca muttered, pulling away from the door and hastily wiping her tears away as she berated herself for being so weak and allowing someone past the walls she had spent years building around her heart. 

She undid her belt and set her sword on the desk, then yanked her bow over her head. Her daggers met the pile with a clatter next, and Beca shoved her boots off before crawling on the bed and curling into a ball, crying herself to sleep.

She stirred awake sometime later to Chloe calling her name. 

“Meleth.” Blinking, Beca slowly turned onto her back. “We’ve almost arrived.” 

Right. The battle. 

Beca inhaled sharply and nodded, sitting up. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Wordlessly, she stood and fastened her sword around her waist, tucked a dagger in each boot, and slung her bow and arrows behind her back.

Chloe’s hand found the small of her back. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Beca lied, the rasp in her voice most likely betraying her as she fastened the buckle on her dagger pouch by her waist. 

She was far from alright, but she couldn’t delve into the whole future thing right now. Not with a battle coming, where she’d need to be two hundred percent focused. 

She eventually met Chloe’s gaze. “Are you?” 

Chloe nodded. She was probably lying, too. 

While Beca was upset with her for not telling her about Valinor when Beca asked what they were going to do a couple days ago, she couldn’t part ways like that. 

Not when there were strong chances one, or both of them might not survive. 

Stepping up to Chloe, she leaned in to press a tender kiss to Chloe’s lips, her free hand cradling the elf’s cheek. “Melin le,” she whispered as she rested her forehead against Chloe’s, basking in the quiet moment before all hell broke loose once they were out there. “Be careful, okay?” 

“You, too,” Chloe murmured. “Melin le, Beca.” 

Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe’s waist and rested her head on her chest, hugging her tight. Chloe kissed her hair, whispering something in Elvish as her arms looped around Beca’s shoulders. 

It sounded like a prayer. 

As they walked back on deck, the city of Minas Tirith came into view. It was _burning_. Chaos reigned over the grounds as flying dragons and _fucking_ _mammoths_ destroyed everything in their path. 

“Oh my god…” Beca breathed, curling her hand around the hilt of her sword. She gulped, hoping Aragorn was right in having faith in the Army of the Dead; otherwise they were done for. 

“Late as usual!” They heard one of the commanding orcs shout as they docked.. “Get off your ships, you sea rats!”

Sword in hand, Aragorn leapt off the ship, followed by the rest of the company. About a thousand orcs stood there, shocked to see only five of them as they were expecting a hundred pirates. 

“There’s plenty for the both of us,” Gimli pointed out as they fell into a determined stride towards the orcs, swinging his axe with anticipation. 

“Hey, count me in, too,” Beca said, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she unsheathed her sword. 

Beca felt that familiar chilly wind, right before the thousand something ghosts swept past them, brandishing their weapons. The orcs cowered away at the sight of them, nearly falling on top of each other in their haste to flee. 

Beca drove her sword into the first one within distance, a roar ripping from her vocal chords out of pure rage. The nerves that were almost suffocating her back in the boat vanished with that first kill, and she methodically moved forward, blocking and slicing whatever came at her. 

“Lostariel!” She heard Aragorn shout and momentarily glanced away to see him pointing at the huge mammoth (or was it an elephant??) menacingly advancing towards them. The ground shook under her feet with each of its heavy steps. 

Wait. He couldn’t be _ serious. _

The air stuck to her lungs as she watched the love of her life charge towards the beast, leaping up into the air to climb on one of its tusks. 

“Okay, not the time to have a heart attack, Beca,” she told herself, focusing back on the task at end of slicing as many orcs as she could. 

Then, if they both came out of it alive, she would have a little talk with her girlfriend about what being careful truly meant. 

The fight progressed much quicker than Beca had anticipated as the ghosts moved through the battlefield with impressive pace. Legolas and Chloe took down the remaining two oliphants while Aragorn, Gimli and Beca fought the last orcs standing. 

“Still only counts as one!” Gimli shouted when the second beast plummeted to the ground, Legolas having killed the dozen fighters on its back beforehand. 

Beca huffed a laugh as she threw a dagger into her assailant's neck. “Boys will be boys.” 

Perhaps she was growing too confident, or maybe her focus was wearing off with the exertion, but Beca failed to see the archer aiming at her from a dozen feet away. 

The unexpected shot stole the air before it could reach her lungs as the arrow pierced through her clothes, skin and muscles, a sudden punch of agony spreading through her stomach as it lodged right below her ribs. A hoarse cry ripped from her vocal chords. 

“BECA!” 

She heard Chloe’s scream as she fell to her knees, briefly registering the archer being taken down by two arrows. 

Pain sizzled to every nerve ending, the ringing in her ears drowning out the sounds of battle. 

Beca glanced down, her eyes zeroing on her crimson hands before the world started to sway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dives away from any thrown objects*
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! :)


	17. Dreams and Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: first scene is a bit graphic

Beca’s side felt like it was being torn apart, shredded, rubbed in salt. 

Thinking was sticky and black spots blurred the edges of her vision. Her tongue felt like sandpaper, a taste of acid and iron settling at the back of her throat. 

Beca registered a flash of red hair and blinked, something between a whimper and moan spilling out of her mouth. “Chlo.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Chloe rushed out, panic laced with her tone. She brushed strands of Beca hair back from her forehead while her other hand pressed on the wound, drawing a hiss from Beca as a flash of pain shot throughout her body. “You’re going to be okay, Meleth. Legolas!” 

Elvish words followed, and Legolas soon appeared in her fuzzy line of sight. 

“We have to yank it out before the poison sits too long inside.” 

_ Yank?? _ Beca tried to object, but her brain couldn’t scrabble a sentence together right this second. She shook her head faintly, moaning in disagreement; this sounded like a terrible idea. 

“Be still, Meleth Nin,” Chloe soothed. “We have to take it out as quickly as possible or you’ll get worse.”

Beca could see tears pearling on Chloe’s lashes as her other hand rested on top of Beca’s head, her thumb stroking just above her eyebrow. 

“Chlo, it _ hurts,_” she whined, a sob rising to her throat. 

“I know, my Beca,” Chloe’s voice shook as more tears toppled down her cheeks. Beca’s eyelids felt heavy. “No, no. You have to stay awake, alright?” 

“It’s barbed,” Legolas said before Beca could reply. “Yanking it out might kill her. We have to push it through.” 

“_Through??” _ Chloe echoed as her head snapped to her brother. She gulped. “Legolas…” 

“It’s nearly out her back anyway,” Legolas observed as he snaked a hand behind Beca’s back. “Let’s turn her on her side, you need to hold her tight.” 

“No, no,” Beca stammered, shaking her head hastily as panic gripped her insides. “Just leave it in until you can put me to sleep, I--” 

“Bite into this,” Chloe said gently, ignoring Beca’s protests and presenting her with a thick piece of leather. “So you don’t bite off your tongue. This will hurt very much, Meleth, but it’s the only way. Do you trust me?” 

_ Not fair. _ Beca nodded shakily, opening her mouth so Chloe could tuck the piece of leather between her teeth. She bit into it, inhaling sharply through her nose and screwing her eyes shut as they rolled her to her uninjured side. 

Even that was painful as fuck, and Beca braced herself as best as she could for what came next. She groaned when Legolas snapped the end of the arrow off, her toes curling in her boots and nails digging into her palms as her nostrils flared. Chloe pinned her legs down with one of hers and grabbed both her wrists, speaking to her in a soothing manner even though Beca’s foggy brain couldn’t register the meaning of her words. 

Legolas then began to push the arrow through, and Beca was suddenly blinded by agony. She shrieked around the piece of leather and tried to writhe away from him, but Chloe prevented her from moving much. 

She could feel every fibre, every nerve being pierced by the arrow head as it was pushed, until, after what felt like hours when it was probably only a handful of seconds, it finally broke out on the other side and Legolas could yank the rest out. Beca was sobbing by that point, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as her body trembled in unparalleled pain. 

“Shh, it’s done, Meleth,” Chloe whispered as she eased her hold on Beca. “It’s done.” 

Beca spat out the piece of leather, choking on more sobs as Chloe reached into her satchel and applied two thick of swathes to both wounds. They were wet, probably coated with some sort of antiseptic. 

“Carry her to the healing ward, I need to tend to her as quickly as possible.” 

Beca groaned when Legolas lifted her up bridal style, and she dozed off halfway through the short walk to the city. 

She woke up sometime later, hot and cold at the same time, and feeling slightly delirious. Her memories were fuzzy until she shifted on the cot, her side roaring with pain as soon as she moved. Her cry captured Chloe’s attention, who stood a few cots away tending to another soldier. 

“Meleth,” she heard from a distance, the voice coming out muffled. A soft hand laid upon her burning forehead. “You are running a fever.” 

Beca only whined in response; she felt like she was going to be sick. “I feel weird.” 

Chloe cupped her neck, lifting her head and presenting her with a cup. “Drink this, it will help.” 

Beca reluctantly drank a few sips, the liquid burning her dry throat as it went down. Whatever was in there -- a herb concoction of some sort -- didn’t sit well with Beca’s stomach. She hurled almost instantly, getting vomit over herself and Chloe’s arm. 

“Oh noooo, I barfed on you, I’m so sorr-” Beca heaved again before she could finish her sentence, blood mingling with her breakfast. She sagged back against the bed, her entire body radiating torment as she breathed heavily. Despite her hazy state, it dawned onto her how serious her injury was and how little advanced medicine was on Middle-Earth. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t wanna _die_, Chlo.” 

“You are _ not _ going to die,” Chloe said calmly, smoothing her tear away and using a wet cloth to clean the mess Beca had made. “Not on my watch. Your body is fighting the poison. I applied a special healing balm on your wounds and you didn’t bleed too much, at least not enough to indicate any organ being damaged. I need you to attempt drinking a bit more, alright?” 

Beca barely registered half of what Chloe was saying, but she nodded anyway, taking another couple of sips. It didn’t come back up this time, but the pain in her side was excruciating. “It _ hurts_.”

“I know, sweetheart. I will give you something.” 

Beca shook her head, sobs bubbling up her throat. “I want my mom,” she croaked out, delirious with ache. 

With her eyes screwed shut, she couldn’t see the tears silently streaming down Chloe’s cheeks. Taking a small flask, the elf uncorked it and tipped a few drops on Beca’s tongue. She knelt by Beca’s side then and brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Try and get some sleep, Meleth Nin.” 

Beca sniffled. Whatever Chloe had given her already worked in making her drowsy. “Will you stay?” 

“Of course I will,” Chloe assured her softly, reaching out to smooth her hair back before she began to sing. 

_ “Ú i vethed nâ i onnad. _

_ Si boe ú-dhanna. _

_ Ae ú-esteli, esteliach nad. _

_ Tiro! Êl eria e môr. _

_ I 'lîr en êl luitha 'úren.” _

  
  


_ ('It's not the end, it is the beginning. _

_ You mustn't falter now. _

_ If you don't trust it, trust something. _

_ Look! A star rises out of the darkness. _

The song of the star enchants my heart.)  
  


Beca fell asleep before the song ended, Chloe’s angelic voice carrying her into dreamland. 

Over the next few days, Beca drifted in and out of consciousness, twisting and moaning in her sleep as the fever triggered many dreams that seemed entirely too real. She dreamed of her mom, telling her to fight, that it wasn’t Beca’s time to join her yet, and of her dad, pleading with her to wake up. She dreamed of she and Chloe, and a little girl named Eleanor, who had Beca’s chocolate hair and Chloe’s vibrant blue eyes. Despite her feverish state, Beca was aware of Chloe’s presence by her side, day and night, heard her Elvish prayers and felt her soothing touch. 

On the fifth day, Beca’s fever broke. Her body felt sore all over, but the pain wasn’t as bad as before. She had been moved to a private room while she slept and was now laying on a fluffy bed as opposed to the hard cot she remembered being on before. 

Chloe was pacing by the windows, her demeanor radiating worry. The room was bathed in amber light; it appeared to be dawn. 

“Chlo,” Beca murmured, unable to speak louder; her vocal chords felt like shards of glass. 

The elf froze and her head snapped towards the bed. She emitted a gasp and strode over, kneeling on the floor to be at Beca’s level. “Meleth. How do you feel?” 

“Like a truck ran me over,” Beca rasped before remembering Chloe didn’t know what a truck was. “Tired, but better.” 

Chloe rested the back of her hand over Beca’s forehead, her movements gentle as per usual. Beca observed her features, from her exhausted traits to her bloodshot eyes; she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “Your fever broke.”

Beca gave a faint nod. “Can I have some water?” 

“Yes, of course.” Chloe hurried to pour some into a cup, assisting with lifting Beca’s head so she could take a few sips. 

“Thank you.” 

Chloe settled back by her side, sitting on the edge of the bed while being careful not to jostle Beca too much. She took Beca’s hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing her palm. “You scared me,” she murmured with a waver in her voice. Tears filled her eyes, but she managed to blink them away. “I thought I might lose you.” 

“M here,” Beca mumbled, a soft smile curving her lips. She wanted to add, _ I’m not going anywhere _, but she felt unable to make that promise as their destiny wasn’t in their hands. “How’s everyone?” 

“They’re all alive. While you were asleep… Frodo and Sam reached the fires of Mordor,” she paused, a beaming smile spreading across her teary features. “It’s over. The ring has been destroyed. Sauron is defeated.” 

Beca felt herself gasp. “What??” A disbelieving laugh burst free as she forgot about her injury for a moment, sitting up and throwing her arms around Chloe’s neck. “Oh my god! _ Ouch. _”

“Meleth,” Chloe tutted, helping her lay back. “You need to stay still until you are completely healed.” 

“Yes ma’am,” she replied sheepishly, the pain not strong enough to wipe that smile off her face. They’d _ won_. She honestly never thought she’d see the day. “What now?” 

“As Isildur’s heir, Aragorn is to become the rightful King of Gondor. The coronation will take place in a week.” 

Beca’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, that’s amazing!” 

She couldn’t think of a better person to rule a kingdom. A fair, courageous and kind leader. 

“You spoke strangely during your bouts of fever,” Chloe said after a while, stroking her thumb over Beca’s knuckles. “Did you have visions?” 

Beca shook her head. “More like intense dreams.” She inhaled sharply. “I saw my mom and--and our daughter.” 

Chloe blinked, her eyes turning misty once more as she remained silent for an extra beat. “Our_ daughter? _” 

Beca nodded as her chest soared with emotions. “Yes. With my hair and your eyes. We named her Eleanor. She was about three or four years old and she spoke Elvish.” 

Chloe’s jaw dropped and she shook her head faintly. “Tell me more, Meleth.” 

Beca couldn’t remember that dream in detail, but some aspects of it came back to her once she focused. “She and I were playing on the porch of our home, I guess. You appeared on a horse and she ran up to you. There were mountains and big fields all around us. Probably somewhere in Middle-Earth.” Beca swallowed, lifting her gaze from their joined hands to meet Chloe’s. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Valinor, Chlo?” 

Chloe’s mouth gaped open for several beats. “I know I should have. But those few days in Edoras… they were my happiest in the three thousand years I’ve spent on Middle-Earth. I did not want to ruin that by telling you.” 

Beca’s lips curled into a pained smile. “Valinor is where you belong, Chloe.” 

“No,” Chloe objected fiercely. “I belong with you. And if you get to stay here, in Middle-Earth, then so will I. We’ll buy some land out here, in Gondor or back home in Mirkwood, whatever it is you prefer. We’ll build a house and a family.” She smiled, squeezing Beca’s hand. “You saw our daughter in our dreams, and I believe that means something.” 

Beca bit her tongue; she didn’t know if the rules were different for elves, but two females couldn’t conceive in her world. “What about after I pass away? What will you do then?” 

Chloe shook her head and kissed her hand once more. “Do not fret about me. Being with you for many more decades is worth the loneliness that may come after.” 

Beca wanted to argue, she really did. But she was too selfish. She too wanted that. She wanted to stay in Middle-Earth and be with Chloe for as long as they were granted together. 

“Okay,” she conceded with a soft sigh, pushing away the thought that she might not be able to stay in Middle-Earth at all. “Building a home and a family with you sounds perfect, my love.” 

Chloe’s shoulders slumped in relief, a wide grin breaking across her features. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Beca’s mouth. Beca’s body warmed from the inside out and she melted into the liplock, releasing another sigh as she kissed back. “Melin le.” 

Beca smiled, brushing her nose against Chloe’s. “I love you, too.” 

*

Over the next week, Beca slowly healed. She knew deep down that such an injury should have killed her, and that Chloe’s healing powers were responsible for her pulling through. She spent most of that time on bed rest (Chloe was pretty strict when it came to Beca’s recovery, it turned out), getting regular visits from the hobbits, Legolas and Gimli. Aragorn was able to stop by a couple times to check in on her. 

Chloe of course, remained by her side day and night. With Beca recovering, they couldn’t engage in anything more than light kissing and cuddling, but Beca didn’t really care about that. Now that they’d defeated Sauron, she knew she could be zapped back to her world at any time, and wanted to make the most of her time with Chloe, in whatever for it came. 

“Do elves get married?” She broke their comfortable silence one afternoon, mostly because she could feel herself falling asleep. Her head was on Chloe’s lap as she laid across the width of the bed, Chloe propped against the pillows. 

“Yes, we do,” Chloe murmured as she continued stroking Beca’s hair. “We can only marry once, and we have to be betrothed for a year before the ceremony.”

_ “A year?” _ Beca echoed, eyebrows flying up to her hair. 

Chloe hummed. “And we shall not consume our marriage before the end of our betrothal.” 

“So… if we already made love, does that mean we can’t get engaged to marry anymore?” 

Chloe tilted her head to the side, her lips curling into a smile. “Did you want to get married, Meleth?” 

Beca licked her suddenly dry lips, blush hitting her cheeks. “I mean… yeah. If we can.” 

Way to go, Beca Mitchell. Least romantic proposal ever. 

In her defense, she didn’t wake up this morning thinking she would ask Chloe to marry her.

“Nobody has to know that we already fucked, Meleth.” 

Beca was pretty sure she’d never completely get used to Chloe using that word so innocently. “I don’t want to wait a year, though.” 

Who knew how much time they had left together. 

“Perhaps Aragorn can ignore that, if we ask to be wedded under Gondor’s law.” 

Beca slowly sat up, wincing at bit as her stomach was still tender. She slid her hand into Chloe’s, eyes sparkling with unparalleled joy. “Are we really doing this?” 

A watery chuckle bubbled up Chloe’s chest. She leaned forward, capturing Beca’s lips in deep kiss. “Melin le.” 

“I love you, too,” Beca rasped, resting her forehead over Chloe’s. She backed away when an idea sparked and glanced down to their joined hands. “In my world, when a couple gets engaged, it’s tradition for the person who asks to give their betrothed a ring as a promise of their love.” 

Beca let go of Chloe’s hand to slide her mom’s ring off her own hand. 

“Beca…” Chloe gasped, shaking her head. “It’s your mom’s ring.” 

Beca nodded. “And I know she’d want me to gift this to you.” 

If she did disappear, Chloe would at least have a keepsake of their story. 

She took Chloe’s left hand and slid the ring on her ring finger. “There, _ fiancée. _” 

It was such an odd thing to say, as Beca never imagined herself getting married after witnessing what it did to her parents, but meeting Chloe had completely turned her idea of love and marriage upside down. 

“Shall we go speak to the king?” Chloe asked, her voice laced with emotions. 

There was not a doubt in Beca’s mind that Aragorn would agree to marry them. 

She kissed Chloe’s hand. “Let’s.” 


	18. Everlasting Love, in a Perfect World

Beca felt like she might have to pinch herself as she stood in front of the mirror, clad in a simple, yet gorgeous white dress. 

Today was her wedding day. _ Jesus. _ It all felt surreal. 

Aragorn was of course thrilled to hear about them wanting to get married. As soon as word got out about the wedding (thanks, Pippin), the people of Gondor, as poor as they were after the war tore into their city, showered she and Chloe with gifts. 

The dress Beca wore was one of them, given by two seamstresses. The blacksmith had hand forged two beautiful silver rings for the occasion, and the villagers offered food for the feast following the ceremony. 

Between their engagement and the set date of their wedding, Aragorn was crowned King. Arwen, Lord Elrond’s daughter and Aragorn’s beloved, traveled from Rivendell to surprise him. They finally had their happy ending, and Beca couldn’t be more thrilled for him. 

And now… she would get to have that with Chloe, too. 

Hopefully. 

A knock drew Beca out of her thoughts, and she looked over her shoulder. “Come in.” 

The wooden door squeaked open, Pippin popping his head in. “They’re ready for you, Lady Beca.” 

“Thanks, Master Pippin,” Beca teased, having told him countless of times that he could just call her Beca. 

“I made something for you,” he said somewhat awkwardly, stepping inside and extending a daisy crown. “I wanted to give you the rest of the bottom leaf as a wedding present but Lady Eowyn said that wasn’t proper.” 

Beca chuckled. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She took it gently and placed it on top of her head, her hair pinned back on each side. “And I’ll happily smoke some bottom leaf with you during the feast.” 

Pippin beamed, before bowing and retreating from the room. Beca took a deep breath, taking one last look in the mirror before she followed. To her surprise, Aragorn was waiting for her at the top of the steps leading to the citadel. He offered his elbow, which Beca took after a beat of shock. 

Gandalf waited by the white tree of Gondor and the four hobbits, Gimli, Arwen, Eowyn and Eomer stood in two seperate groups on each side of the aisle. A harp player sat at in the distance, the music starting as Beca walked forward, smiling at her friends as she passed. Once they made it to Gandalf, Beca stood on the tip of her toes to press a quick kiss to Aragorn’s cheek. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing his hand before letting go. 

He smiled and bowed, then went to stand by Arwen’s side. Two figures appeared out of the corner of Beca’s eye, and she turned her head, her breathing altering as she watched Chloe slowly make her way towards her on Legolas’ arm. They hadn’t seen each other yet, which was in hindsight a terrible idea as Beca was now crying over how beautiful Chloe looked. 

“Holy crap,” she croaked, shaking her head faintly as she slid her hands into Chloe’s outstretched ones. Chloe’s dress had been brought by a company of elves who had travelled to Minas Tirith for Aragorn’s coronation. It was delicate and elegant, made of silk and lace. A tiara was woven through her hair and her eyes seemed bluer than ever. “You look incredibly beautiful.” 

“So do you, Meleth.” 

Beca wanted to argue with that, but Gandalf started speaking before she could. 

“Dear beloved friends. We stand here today to celebrate the love and commitment between Princess Lostariel of Mirkwood and Beca Mitchell of…” he trailed off, glancing towards Beca questioningly. 

“Not important,” Beca muttered, unable to keep her eyes off Chloe as chuckles erupted amidst the crowd. 

Gandalf smiled. “Very well. I believe you have written your own vows. Beca, if you will go first.” 

Beca nodded, puffing out a breath. “Chloe… I never really believed in true love, or soulmates. I never thought I would find that person; someone that makes me want to be the best version of myself, and someone whose happiness is more important than mine. Someone who believed in me from day one, even though I had never held a bow or wielded a sword before,” she paused, shaking her head faintly in lingering disbelief. She wondered if that would ever cease. “You are… the most incredible being I know, with such a beautiful soul, and I feel so lucky to stand here today to commit my whole to you and start our life together.” 

“Chloe?” Gandalf prompted after a few beats. 

“Meleth nîn,” Chloe started, her voice wavering with emotions. “I’ve been hearing tales of soulmates since I was just an elfling, but I never thought it would be this way. I feel… whole when I’m with you, as though a part of me had been missing until the day we met. You are everything to me. My life, my heart, my soul, my home. I promise myself to you until the day the universe parts us. I promise to protect you and to make you as happy as you make me.” 

Beca blinked back tears, casting Chloe a watery smile as she squeezed her hands. 

Gandalf smiled and opened his palm, revealing the two rings. “These wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites your two hearts in love.” 

Beca reached out to take Chloe’s, locking eyes with hers as she slid it over her finger. Chloe went through the same motion, raising Beca’s hand to her lips and kissing the ring once where it was meant to stay forever. 

“By the power vested in me by King Elessar of Gondor, I now pronounce you married,” Gandalf announced, outstretching his arms. “You may kiss.” 

“Finally,” Beca joked, looping her hand around the curve of Chloe’s neck and tugging her forward into a searing kiss as applause and cries of joy echoed around them. Beca laughed when Chloe dipped her, draping her other arm over her shoulders. It was probably illegal to feel this happy. “Melin le.” 

“Melin le,” Chloe murmured back, brushing her nose against Beca’s before straightening and stealing another kiss. 

Following a heartwarming feast with delicious food and overflowing beer, songs and games, Chloe and Beca retreated to their chambers. A fire and candles had been lit, bathing the room in a romantic atmosphere. After shutting and locking the door, Beca turned around and draped her arms over Chloe’s shoulder, gazing at her with love-filled eyes. 

“How do you say wife in Elvish?” Beca asked softly. 

_ “Adaneth,” _ Chloe murmured, leaning in to brush a kiss to Beca’s lips as her hands found purchase on Beca’s waist. “I really love the way that sounds.” 

“Mhm, me too,” Beca mused, bumping her nose against Chloe’s before capturing her lips into another kiss. 

She stepped closer to press herself flush against Chloe’s body, emitting a moan into the liplock as unparalleled warmth spread through every corner of her being. She didn’t know if their soulmate bond was somehow heightened now they had promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives, but everything just felt... _ tenfold. _

She felt Chloe’s hands leave her waist, drifting up her sides and around her back to undo the buttons at the back of her dress. Slowly, the fabric around Beca’s body loosened, pooling to the floor with a gentle shrug of Beca’s shoulders. Chloe stepped back, fire mingling with the love pouring from her eyes as she swept them over Beca’s naked form. 

“_Nalyë vanima,” _the elf murmured, leaning in to press featherlight kisses to the curve of Beca’s neck, along her upper chest and over the valley of her breasts. “You are beautiful.” 

Beca lifted her hand, pushing Chloe’s hair behind her ear. Unable to help herself, she purposely brushed her thumb over the pointy tip as she loved how much it drove Chloe wild. She felt and heard Chloe groan against her skin just as she traveled to Beca’s left breast, taking a nipple into her mouth. 

_ “Jesus_,” Beca choked out, staggering back against the door when her knees keeled. 

Chloe pulled away and straightened, much to Beca’s frustration. She had the most adorable expression of confusion on her face. “Who’s Jesus?” 

“Not important, I’ll explain later,” Beca chuckled, cupping the back of Chloe’s neck and tugging her in for a passionate kiss. 

“You still haven’t told me about that Sherlock fellow,” Chloe pointed out when they broke apart for air. 

“Oh my god,” Beca whined. Her wife’s (_ wife!) _curiosity was extremely endearing and part of why Beca fell for her in the first place, but Beca had other plans right now than discussing Jesus Christ and Sherlock Holmes. 

Because of her injury, they hadn’t had been together in three weeks. It was a long time now that Beca knew how mind blowing sex with Chloe was. 

“Sorry,” Chloe sheepishly whispered, pecking Beca’s lips before she dropped to her knees, pressing a kiss to Beca’s upper stomach, then another one just below. She made a detour from her straight line to kiss Beca’s scar, and Beca sucked in a sharp breath, reaching out to cup Chloe’s jaw and staring down at her with heart eyes. “You are badass.” 

Beca’s chest soared with pride. While that arrow hurt like hell, she wasn’t mad about bearing proof of her badassery. 

Chloe twisted her head to kiss her palm, then continued on down, hooking Beca’s leg over her shoulder. 

“Holy shit,” Beca breathed, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth as Chloe locked eyes with hers, her tongue darting out to lick her in one broad lick. Beca’s head thumped back against the wooden door and her hand curled around the handle as a zap of pleasure rushed down her spine. _ “Baby.” _

Chloe responded by humming against her, her tongue swirling by her entrance teasingly. The hand not holding onto Beca’s thigh braced over her lower stomach, her thumb brushing dangerously close to Beca’s clit. Beca’s hand found Chloe’s head, gently pushing her forward to wordlessly tell her she needed more. Chloe played her like an instrument over the next handful of minutes, steadily leading Beca to a powerful climax. 

“Ohmygod, Chloe,” Beca croaked out, a broken cry following as she dove off the cliff, stars bursting behind her eyelids. Her body trembled through her orgasm, and Beca had to remember to hold herself up as Chloe lapped her clean. “_Fuck._”

Chloe chuckled, pushing back to her feet and kissing Beca languidly. “I love the way you taste.” 

Flush bloomed in Beca’s cheeks and she didn’t know what to respond to that besides pushing Chloe back towards the bed to have her way with her. 

They fell asleep hours later to the sound of the rain pelting against the windows, spent and sated. Beca was snoring softly, her naked body pressed against Chloe’s side and one of her legs slung over Chloe’s, when a voice disrupted her peaceful dreams. 

_ The Quest is over, Rebecca. _

Beca’s eyebrows twitched in confusion. “Go back to sleep, Chlo,” she mumbled, burrowing deeper under the sheets. 

_ It is almost time to head home, now. _

Beca’s eyes slammed open when she realized it wasn’t Chloe speaking to her, but Galadriel. Her heart plummeted to her stomach and her breathing altered as the words sunk in. 

_ Back to your loved ones, as I promised. _

“No,” Beca muttered, sitting up and cradling her head with her hands as it felt like the air couldn’t quite reach her lungs anymore. Elvish singing joined in, echoing somewhere far in Beca’s mind. “Get out of my head.” 

_ You’ve done your part. _

“Meleth?” The singing abruptly stopped as Beca snapped her head towards Chloe who was sitting up, concern etched in her features. Her hand came to rest on Beca’s shoulder. “What’s the matter?” 

“I heard her,” Beca choked out, panic coiling at the base of her spine. “Lady Galadriel.” 

Chloe blinked, seemingly much more awake all of the sudden. The fire had died and the rain had ceased, clouds parting to let the moonlight shine through the windows. “What-- what was she saying?” 

“That-- that I’ve done my part and it was time to head home, now.” Beca shook her head, leaning her forehead over Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe’s arm wrapped around her back, bringing her closer, and Chloe dropped a kiss into her hair. “_ You’re _ my home. Not… whatever I left back on Earth.” 

“I won’t let her pull us apart,” Chloe whispered. Beca felt tears drop into her hair as her own silently slid down her cheeks. “You hear me? We’ll be together one way or another, Meleth. I promise.” 

Beca wanted to believe her, she really did. There was nobody she trusted as much as she did her wife. But this… this seemed beyond Chloe’s power. 

“What should we do?” Beca asked, lifting her head. 

“We ought to set for Lothlorien tomorrow, it won’t take us long now that the main roads are safe once more. We will tell Galadriel that you want to stay here, in Middle-Earth, that we’re bound together now.” 

Beca nodded, sniffling. “Okay.” 

“It will be alright,” Chloe whispered, leaning in to brush a kiss to her lips as her hand found Beca’s, her thumb skimming over her wedding band. _ “Melin le. Illumë ye oialë.” _

Beca rested her forehead against Chloe’s, curving her hand around the side of her neck. “What does that mean?” 

“Always and everlasting,” she said, cradling Beca’s jaw tenderly. “My love for you.” 

Beca puffed out a breath, her eyes fluttering shut as she let Chloe’s words chase away some of the anguish swirling around in her chest. She kissed Chloe again, letting it linger as she seared the memory of Chloe’s lips against her own in her brain. Just in case. “_ Melin le. _You are my heart, Chloe.” 

Beca didn’t catch a wink of sleep after that, afraid that she might be snatched snatched away back to Earth by whatever force brought her here. 

They set out to Lothlorien the next morning. Legolas insisted he join them on their journey for further protection, as goblins and other sneaky creatures were known to ambush travelers. Aragorn offered to send them out with an army, but that would make them slower. He wished them farewell and told them they could always call Gondor their home if they wished. 

The first day and night of travel were uneventful. As Legolas and Chloe were woodland elves, they felt safer up in the trees, much to Beca’s dismay. While _ sure _ , that option sounded safer than sleeping on the ground in case of an ambush, Beca really _ really _ wished they weren’t spending the night six feet up in the air. 

Following a sleepless night for Beca, they continued heading north towards the woods of Lorien. Everything was going fine, until they reached Fangorn. Beca felt her horse growing much less sure-footed the further they ventured into the forest, the trees humming and squeaking as they passed. 

“It’s okay, bud,” she murmured, reaching forward to stroke Aquilo’s neck. “They’re just trees.” 

The next things unfolding were a blur. A tree on her right turned around to face her, its yellowish eyes downright terrifying as they blinked open. Beca bit back a scream as Aquilo bolted forward, off the main path and deeper into the woods. Pulling on the reins did absolutely nothing and Beca saw the low hanging branch ahead only once it was too late. 

She took the blow head on, the force of it rendering her unconscious as she hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

“Beca?” The voice sounded like Beca was underwater when she eventually came back to her senses. Her head was killing her. No wonder, she just collided with a big-ass branch and fell off a fucking horse. “Can you hear me?” 

All Beca could muster was a grumble and a huff at first. “Chlo?” She eventually managed, squinting against the bright light. 

“Oh my god. Beca, sweetie.” She felt someone squeeze her hand. “It’s dad. You’re okay. Take your time.” 

Beca’s eyebrow knitted together in utter confusion. Her mouth felt as dry as sandpaper. And she could hear some sort of… beeping? 

Something felt very, _very_ wrong.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” 

That made Beca finally snap out of it. Her eyes flew open and her heart lurched to her throat as she sat upright in a flash. 

A strong hand gripped her shoulder. “Easy, easy. You’re okay.” 

Panicked eyes snapped to the man beside her. Her _ dad. _

No, no, no. It _ couldn’t _ be. 

“No,” Beca choked out, shaking her head as her heart broke into a hundred pieces. 

She was in the hospital, like she had seen in Galadriel’s fountain. 

Or did she dream that and the rest? Was Chloe and their story just a figment of her imagination? 

Beca’s left hand flew to her mouth to muffle the next sobs, and that’s when she felt the cool metal against her bottom lip. 

She slowly outstretched her arm, staring down at her shaky hand and the thin band on her finger. 

Her wedding ring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. 
> 
> I'm kidding.


	19. Illumë ye oialë

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final installment!

Beca was discharged from the hospital two days later, after a battery of tests and a night spent in observation. She learned that Jesse luckily only sustained a broken arm and a few cracked ribs, which healed over the time she spent in a coma. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” Beca’s dad said as he lingered in the doorway of Beca’s temporary bedroom at he and Sheila’s house. 

“Thanks,” Beca muttered, setting her bag on top of the comforter and glancing around the room. 

Warren smiled awkwardly, drawing the door shut behind him as Beca sat on the bed, heaving out a deep sigh. 

Her eyes were bloodshot from crying herself to sleep and she didn’t have much appetite. She missed Chloe so damn much, it  _ ached _ . She could still feel their connection though, even if they lived in parallel worlds, but she had no idea how to go back to Middle-Earth, or if it was remotely possible. 

Should she risk getting into another car crash? Or knock herself out with a bat? 

Beca spotted her laptop on the desk and dragged the chair back to sit, opening it and firing it up. Over the next hours, she looked up traveling between worlds, magic portals or people telling stories of a similar event happening to them. She ended up on a few creepy witchcraft websites with a bunch of spells and a tutorial on how to draw a triquetra to create a portal and considered it for a minute, before eventually deciding it was a bad idea. 

Who  _ knew _ where she would end up if she fucked up? 

As the month slowly ticked by, Beca’s hopes to ever see Chloe again lessened. She went back to class simply because she needed something to distract herself, but the sight of her wedding ring never failed to make her heart wrench. 

She couldn’t bring herself to take it off though, and she wasn’t sure she ever would. 

Beca never told anyone the story, figuring people would call her nuts. She kept it to herself, and as her sketchbook didn’t make it back with her, she bought a new one and drew everything from memory as best as she could. Chloe was her main subject of course. Her wife’s face and body would forever be seared into her mind, but it was soothing for Beca to put it down on paper. 

“Aubrey and I are going out for dinner tonight, you should join,” Jesse suggested as they exited the radio station after their CD stacking shift. 

“No thanks,” Beca muttered, hitching the strap of her bag higher over her shoulder. “I don’t feel like being the third wheel.” 

“That’s the thing…” Jesse drawled out. “Aubrey has a single friend, too, and she talked about bringing him for a double date sort of thing.” 

Beca’s spine snapped straighter, her skin tingling uncomfortably as her first thought went straight to Chloe. 

Her  _ wife. _ Whom she hadn’t seen in over a month and didn’t know whether she would ever see again. 

How was she even supposed to move on from her soulmate, if they were meant to remain apart? Any kiss or other experiences with someone else would probably never be as good, right? 

“I’m not--” She cleared her throat, fastening her gaze on the pavement as they walked back towards the dorms. “I’m not interested. You guys have fun, though.” 

“Dude, are you okay?” Jesse asked, glancing at her. “Ever since the accident… You’ve been acting weird.” 

Beca shrugged. “I’m just working through some stuff. But I’m not really in the dating mood right--” 

Repetitive honking and shouts coming from the intersection ahead cut Beca short. Her gaze snapped towards the road, and so did Jesse’s. 

“Hey! Get out of the way, light’s green!” 

“Get off the road!” 

The person standing in the middle looked clearly panicked and out of place, and it was only when Beca and Jesse got closer that Beca caught a glimpse of red hair. 

Her heart lurched to her throat as she blinked, shaking her head. 

It couldn’t be. 

Yet, she knew it was. 

“Chloe!” Beca shouted, bolting into a sprint towards the intersection. Chloe looked completely frozen, staring blankly at the vehicles she was blocking by standing in the middle of the crosswalk. 

The light turned red for the cars just as Beca reached her, and only when she seized Chloe’s arms did Chloe snap out of her trance. She blinked, staring at Beca in shock before pulling her into a tight embrace. 

“Meleth,” she murmured into Beca’s neck, and Beca’s eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled Chloe’s familiar, soothing scent. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as it finally sunk in that her wife was here. On Earth. “I found you.” 

Beca pulled away slightly, resting her forehead over Chloe’s and reaching up to smooth Chloe’s tears away with the pads of her thumbs. “You’re here.” 

More honking cut through their bubble, causing Beca to slide her hand into Chloe’s and pull her forward towards the sidewalk. 

“Freaks!” One of the drivers shouted right before he drove off. 

“Fuck off!” Beca shouted, flipping him off with her free hand. 

“Beca?” Jesse asked, confusion etched in his features. “Who’s she?” 

“Long story,” Beca summed up, herself assaulted by too many questions at the moment to even try to start explaining the madness of the situation. “I’ll catch you up tomorrow, ‘K?” 

After bidding Jesse goodbye, Beca focused on Chloe, shaking her head in disbelief. “Let’s-- let’s head to my place where it’s quieter, alright? Then you can tell me what happened.” 

Beca laced their fingers and squeezed Chloe’s hand, leading her right at the intersection towards campus. Chloe was slow, too busy staring at the buildings, cars and traffic lights in wonder to match Beca’s pace. 

They eventually made it to her dorm, and Beca was more thankful than ever that her dad pulled some strings for her to have her own private room. She unlocked her door and let Chloe through, instinctively flicking on the light as it was getting dark outside. 

Chloe nearly jumped out of her skin, gazing at the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling distrustingly. 

“I’ll explain electricity later,” Beca said, her hands still shaking with nerves as she shrugged off her leather jacket. “Here, um, sit,” she said, guiding Chloe to the bed and sitting on the edge. Once Chloe had settled down beside her, Beca took her hands. “ _ How _ are you here?” 

“Galadriel. She said she couldn’t bring you back, but… that _ I  _ could travel to your world if I stayed there for good.” 

“For good?” Beca echoed, her mouth gaping open and heart breaking for Chloe. “Chlo… what about your home?” 

“You’re my home,” Chloe stated without a beat of hesitation. “I want to be wherever you are, and if it’s here, in your world, then that’s where I’ll be.” 

“Baby… are you-- are you sure?” 

Chloe lifted one of Beca’s hand, pressing a kiss to Beca’s wedding ring. “Absolutely. I cannot live without you.” 

“Holy shit,” Beca croaked out, a sob rising from her throat as her features crumbled. “I thought I might never see you again.” 

“I’m here,” Chloe whispered, tugging Beca into her side and brushing a kiss to her forehead.  _ “Nányë hí, Meleth nîn.” _

Beca lifted her head, cupping the side of Chloe’s neck as she pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. It felt as though her body was coming back to life after simply existing this past month. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Chloe replied, reaching up to tuck a piece of Beca’s hair behind her ear. “When your horse bolted… we never found you. And I understood you had gone back. Legolas and I made haste to Lothlorien and Galadriel was able to find a way for me to go to you.” 

Beca sighed. “I had started to loose hope.” 

That made Chloe tilt her head to the side. “How long have you been back?” 

“About a month.” 

“But you disappeared only a few days ago.” 

“A few days?” Beca blinked. So time moved slower on Middle-Earth. Her dad said she had been in a coma for over a year, but she had lost track of days during the quest. “You gave up your family and your world after three  _ days?”  _

“You’re my family,” Chloe countered without a beat of hesitation. “And this world… I’m sure I will grow to like it.” 

Beca really, really hoped so. She would never forgive herself if Chloe was unhappy here. 

“So, I’m a mortal now.” 

“But you still have your pointy ears,” Beca pointed out with a frown. 

Chloe shrugged. “I guess some of the magic stayed. Will I have to hide them?” 

Beca shook her head. “We can always say you’re on your way to a cosplay convention if people ask.” 

“A what?” 

Beca figured that was the first of many things she would have to explain. “It’s a thing where people dress up.” 

“Oh.” 

“Speaking of dressing up, we’ll need to buy you some clothes,” she said as she glanced at Chloe’s cloak and boots. 

Chloe scrunched up her nose. “People dress oddly here.” 

Beca chuckled. “It’s just a question of habit, babe. We’ll try to find stuff you like.” Her fingers curled around the fabric of Chloe’s cloak, and she leaned in to brush a kiss to her lips. “I still can’t believe you’re here. On Earth.” 

“I am,” Chloe confirmed as Beca laid back, tugging her wife on top of her. “This isn’t a dream, Meleth.” 

Beca cradled Chloe’s jaw, staring into her mesmerizing blue eyes for a few beats. For the first time in a month, she felt truly at peace. “I don’t want to be without you again, Chlo.” 

The elf shook her head faintly. “You never have to be.” 

*

Much later, as they laid in bed after making love, eating some pizza (Chloe was utterly fascinated by the shape and taste of it) and some more love making, Chloe stared curiously at Beca’s alarm-clock, blinking each time the green numbers changed. “I think I will need a lot of explanations around here.” 

Beca laughed as she snuggled into her side. “That’s one thing for certain.” 

“Do you have one of those moving boxes?” 

“Nope, but I have a cellphone.” She reached behind her, grabbing the device off her bedside table. “Here, I’ll show you something.” She unlocked it and selected the camera, extending her arm above them. “Smile, love.” 

Beca took the picture and showed it to Chloe, who sat up, taking the phone in her hand. “How are we--” 

“It’s called a camera. It freezes the moment, like an instant painting.” 

Chloe gaped, turning the device over a couple times. “That’s  _ extraordinary _ .” 

Beca chuckled at her wife’s adorableness. “C’mon, I need to shower. Care to join me?” 

She was met with a frown. “A shower?” 

“It’s like… a hot waterfall.” 

She handed Chloe a towel to wrap around her naked body and together they crossed the hall to one of the bathrooms on that floor. Locking the door behind her, Beca dragged the curtain back and reached out to turn on the water, fiddling with the temperature until it was perfect. 

Chloe let out a groan as she stepped under the spray, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Beca simply watched for a moment, utterly fascinated by her otherworldly-looking wife; she was perfect in a world that was anything but. 

“Come here,” Chloe coaxed after a little while, looping her arm around Beca’s waist and tugging her against her. 

“Hi,” Beca murmured, pressing a kiss to her mouth as her hands found Chloe’s shoulders. 

“Hello,” Chloe replied. “So what is your daily life like, here?” 

Beca’s nose scrunched up. “I go to school. But what I really want to do is work with music. I wanted to go to LA, but now…” 

“Now what?” 

“It’s a big city and…” She sighed. “I don’t want you to be unhappy. We can find someplace to live in the country, somewhere quieter.” 

Chloe shook her head. “I promise I will be alright. As long as I get to be with you. I’ve lived three thousands of years in the same place. I’m looking forward to discovering this world of yours.” 

Beca puffed a breath. If Chloe didn’t like LA, then she could always change her plans. “Okay. Let’s go to LA, then.” 

*

After leaving Barden, she and Chloe lived in California for ten years. Beca got an internship at a label, then was offered an assistant producer job before getting promoted to producer four years in. 

Chloe adjusted quicker than Beca had to Middle-Earth, taking it all in stride; traveling on a plane for the first time, using various electronics or dressing in a more modern way. She found a job at a horse ranch a couple months after getting to LA and got to ride in nature all day long, which seemed to truly make her happy. 

After working for six years with top-of-the-chart artists in LA and winning multiple Grammys, Beca decided that it was time to get Chloe what she really desired. No matter how much she said she didn’t mind living in the city, Beca knew her heart belonged in the wide open spaces. 

That’s how they found their way to the middle of nowhere in Northern Colorado. They bought a large, comfy cabin with a lot of land surrounded by mountains; a taste of the beauty of Middle-Earth. 

Chloe started an archery and sword wielding business, giving classes and taking part to medieval shows all over the country. They owned a few horses, chickens, goats and pigs and had a large garden, relying mostly on their farm for food. 

A year after moving, they welcomed their little bundle of joy, a baby girl with Beca’s chocolate hair and Chloe’s eyes (similar to the donor’s) whom they named Eleanor, just like in Beca’s dream. 

Now four years old, Eleanor spoke fluent English and Elvish, and shared Chloe’s connection with nature and animals. She was a little firecracker, curious and daring, who wasn’t scared of anything. She was kind like Chloe, stubborn and determined like Beca, and would take the world by storm one day. 

Beca never forgot about her time in Middle-Earth. A framed sketch of the fellowship of the ring hung above their fireplace, and Beca often wondered what became of their friends. Legolas must have sailed to Valinor to be with his loved one, or maybe he’d stayed in Gondor as Aragorn’s advisor. Aragorn probably started a family of his own with Arwen, all the while ruling Gondor. Gimli was surely enjoying life with good food and beer, as were the hobbits back in the Shire. 

Beca would probably never know how she ended up in Middle-Earth or why she was chosen to take part in the Quest. She only knew it brought her to the love of her life, and she wasn’t interested in digging more into it. 

“Mama, look!” Beca snapped out of her reverie, turning her head towards what her daughter was pointing at. A butterfly, sitting on top of her thigh.  _ “Aiya, gwilwileth.”  _

“I see, Ellie. Is that your new friend?” 

Beca sat on the porch, nursing a cup of coffee while Eleanor played in the grass at the bottom of the steps. 

“Yep!” The sound of approaching hooves captured Ellie’s attention and she gasped, scrambling to her feet. “ _ Emig!” _

Beca grinned as she stood, watching Eleanor run towards Chloe. Chloe slowed Gwaedal, her dark bay quarter horse to a stop and swiftly dismounted, bending down to pick her daughter up.  _ “Aiya. Gi edíw.” _

_ “Inyë, Emig.”  _

Beca made her way over, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist and pecking her lips. “Hello.” 

_ “Aiya, Meleth nîn.”  _

“Can I go for a ride before dinner, Mama?” Ellie asked as she stroked Gwaedal’s neck. 

“Sure,” Beca allowed, as Eleanor had behaved today. Chloe transferred her into Beca’s arms while she mounted back up, then lifted her up, popping her in front of her in the saddle. 

“Onwards, Gwaedal!” Eleanor coaxed, kicking her short legs that didn’t reach past the saddle. “ _ Limbë!” _

Chuckling, Chloe gently pressed her heel to the horse’s flank, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist while her free hand took the reins. She cast Beca a soft wink. “Be back soon, Meleth.” 

“Have a good ride!” Beca shouted after them, watching the pair disappear into the distance in a slow canter. 

She retreated back inside to work on dinner, and maybe finish reading her book before her family returned. 

It was a fairly simple life, away from the bustle and the spotlight, but Beca thought it was pretty damn perfect. 

_ fin _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I never thought I would finish this story when I took a three-month-break. Thank you for sticking with me, kudoing and commenting! :) I hope you are satisfied with the ending!
> 
> Translations:   
Nányë hí, Meleth nîn: I'm here, my love  
Aiya, gwilwileth: hello, butterfly  
Emig: mommy  
Gi edíw: I missed you  
Inyë: I, too


	20. Welcome to Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Decide to write an extra piece in this universe. Takes place right after Chloe arrives on Earth and her first decade there. Thanks to @isadorable for brainstorming scene ideas with me. Enjoy! 
> 
> Here’s their house in Colorado: https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/295-Piute-Rd-Westcliffe-CO-81252/2078824007_zpid/

Chloe’s first mall experience was definitely something. The morning after she showed up on Earth, Beca took her downtown to fix her wardrobe so she wouldn’t be stared at every time she was out and about.

(well, her pointy ears would probably draw attention anyway, but maybe less so once she was out of her medieval-looking clothing.) 

“Those stairs are moving by themselves,” Chloe observed, blinking twice in slow succession as she stared at the escalator they were about to step on. 

Beca stifled a chuckle, squeezing her hand. “Yeah. It’s electric, just like turning the lights on.” 

She had braced herself upon waking up this morning, half-expecting Chloe to regret having traveled here to this unknown world or having vanished during the night. But Chloe didn’t seem to show any remorse, and they spent the first hour post-waking up making love before having breakfast in bed. 

Chloe’s head was on a swivel as they rode the escalator, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she took in the amount of different clothes when they stepped inside the store. Beca kept her eyes on her, finding her wife’s reactions adorable, though some concern did linger over this being too much for Chloe. 

They spent a couple hours in various stores, getting Chloe a pair of jeans, a couple dresses and several tops and shirts, as well as a pair of boots. Beca paid for everything with the money her dad gave her, but she knew she’d have to get a job ASAP to cover expenses for both she and Chloe. 

“What do you call this?” Chloe asked, suspiciously peering at the inside of the hamburger set in front of her. 

“A hamburger. It’s beef inside, I think you’ll like it.” Beca held up a fry. “And  _ this _ , is the best thing ever invented. You can dip in mayo, or ketchup if you prefer.” She did so, then popped it into her mouth, enjoying the crunch. She caught Chloe’s amused look and raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You are adorable, Meleth.” 

Beca flushed, rolling her eyes softly. “Eat your food, weirdo.” 

After hamburger and fries, Beca bought Chloe an ice cream, which they ate on a bench in the park across the mall. Beca was concerned Chloe’s ice cream would melt as she was more focused on people walking by than her dessert. 

“Are they training for war?” She asked as a jogger ran by them. 

“No. We don’t have war in our country. Some places on Earth do, but not here. They’re training to stay in shape, I guess?” Beca scrunched up her nose. “You won’t see me doing any of that.” 

They headed home mid-afternoon and chilled on Beca’s bed for the rest of the day, indulging into more love-making. While it had only been three days for Chloe, those three months had filled Beca with a sort of emptiness that she yearned to make up for. 

“When did you get this?” Chloe asked as they lay in bed afterwards, tracing the outline of the elven script inked on Beca’s ribs. 

_ Illumë ye oialë.  _

Forever and always.

Beca never thought she would get a tattoo for a significant other, let alone something as cheesy as this, but she never expected to be this in love either. 

“A few weeks after waking up. I honestly-- I thought I would never see you again, and I wanted to carry you with me somehow.” 

Chloe pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Melin le. I’m here now.” 

Beca lifted her head from Chloe’s shoulder to kiss her lips. “I love you, too.” 

“How far away is Los Angeles?” Chloe asked after a few beats of silence. 

“2000 miles.”

“Will we get there with one of those metal boxes on wheels?” 

Beca let out a soft chuckle. “No, we’ll take the plane.” Realizing Chloe had never heard that word before, she added, “It’s like... a giant bird made out of metal that flies in the sky and goes much faster than a car.” 

Chloe hummed, the tips of her fingers drawing nonsensical patterns at the base of Beca’s spine. “And you drive it?” 

“No,” Beca laughed. “We have special people for that, who know what they’re doing. I can drive a car though, but I don’t own one right now.” 

“Do they speak Westron in Los Angeles?” 

“Yeah. We call it English here, though. People will look at you weird if you use the word westron.”

“English,” Chloe repeated, nodding. 

Beca tucked a strand of red hair behind her pointy ear. “How do you feel after your first day on Earth?”

“I’m alright. I do not like the sound of cars too much, but it is most likely a question of habit.” She smiled sheepishly. “I like that frozen dessert, though. And the shower. And fucking.” 

Beca barked out a laugh. “I can tell you like fucking.” She rolled on top of Chloe swiftly, straddling her thighs. The sheet fell to her waist, exposing her chest and stomach, and Beca flushed as Chloe’s eyes roved over her bare form. “Care for another round,  _ wife? _ ” 

*

Over the next few weeks, Beca continued to show Chloe the little things she loved about her world. She took her to a few music gigs and to the fair, watching with fondness as Chloe discovered those new things. Much to her horror, Chloe got addicted to movies, and Beca had to sit through them at least twice a week. It was adorable though, how her wife barely blinked away from the screen, completely fascinated by the  _ moving box _ . 

Beca introduced her to her dad, who obviously had many questions -- about Chloe’s way of speaking and her ears, mostly -- but Beca remained vague about how they met. That time on Middle Earth… she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to know about that. 

Nobody would believe her anyway. 

To her surprise, her dad agreed to support her financially until she found a steady job in LA. They flew across the country soon after, and found themselves a small studio space in Torrance. Beca landed an internship at a record studio about two weeks in, and Chloe insisted she wanted to work, too. 

Beca was truly impressed with Chloe’s ability to adapt. She found herself a barista gig at the Starbucks near their place, earning enough money for them to live somewhat comfortably along with Beca’s dad’s financial support. 

Though Chloe never said anything, Beca noticed a change in her demeanor about six months in. A longing in her eyes, the same one Beca had seen while they were sailing towards the Pelennor fields. Chloe had been spending a lot of her time at the beach lately, gazing at the ocean for hours on end. 

The crippling anxiety that Chloe might be regretting coming to Earth started swirling around Beca’s heart. 

“Hey,” Beca said when she got home one night after work. She set her keys down by the door and shrugged off her jacket, draping it across a chair. 

“Hi Meleth,” Chloe greeted with a soft smile from her spot on their bed. “How was your day?” 

“Good,” Beca answered as she toed off her shoes and padded over. She climbed in next to Chloe and kissed her cheek. “Missed you though.” 

“Missed you, too.” 

Beca grabbed her wife’s hand. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve seemed off lately and I feel like--” she sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you happy here on Earth?” 

“Yes.” The lack of hesitation in Chloe’s reply made Beca breathe a tiny bit easier. “I am. I’m so happy to be with you and discover new things every day, I simply... miss being in the forest sometimes. I did not think I would crave it as much.” 

“Oh,” Beca breathed. She knew moving to Los Angeles was a risk, and instant guilt flooded her for putting her dreams before Chloe’s well being. “We can move elsewhere, away from the city.” 

“No,” Chloe murmured, lifting Beca’s hand to kiss her knuckles. “Your dream is to make music, my love. I  _ want _ that for you. I simply need to get used to this new life is all.” 

“How about we go away this weekend?” Beca suggested after a beat or two. “We could find a ranch and go horseback riding?” 

Chloe’s eyes sparkled at the mention of horses. “That sounds lovely, Meleth. Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me,” Beca said, shifting to snuggle into Chloe’s side. She felt Chloe sigh softly against her. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

The smile lighting up her wife’s features as soon as she sat on a horse again made Beca’s heart soar. Their two-day getaway outside the city seemed to be exactly what Chloe needed, and Beca made a deal with herself to make more time for regular trips out in nature in the future. 

She encouraged Chloe over the next few weeks to find a job related to animals, and that’s how Chloe found herself becoming a wrangler at a dude ranch. When Beca was offered an assistant-producer job a few months later, they found themselves a bigger place on the outskirts of the city, closer to the ranch. 

“You know what I was thinking?” Beca blurted out one evening as they cooked dinner. 

“What were you thinking, Meleth?” Chloe asked, amusement coloring her tone as she glanced away from stirring the sauce and towards Beca. 

Beca abandoned her task to slide up behind Chloe, wrapping her arms around her waist. “That we’re not technically married in this world.” 

Chloe hummed, leaning back against Beca. “That is true. How do we fix that?” 

Beca didn’t want another ceremony; the one in Minas Tirith surrounded by their companions would forever be their wedding. She simply wanted it stated on official paper that they were wife and wife. 

“We show up at city hall to get a marriage licence and stand before a judge so they can marry us.” 

“Is it that simple?” Chloe asked, turning around in Beca’s arms. “Can we go tomorrow?”

An affectionate laugh flitted past Beca’s lips. She kissed Chloe soundly. “Let’s.” 

The next five years were a complete professional whirlwind. Following a collaboration with Shawn Mendes that blew up online, Beca got offers for lead producing from left and right, with salary proposals that nearly made her choke on her own saliva. She got to work with big names and lead amazing projects, all the while managing to maintain her personal life private. 

Beca was thankful for the career she had, but the hectic life was starting to wear her down. She often thought back on her time in Middle-Earth, and how much a simpler life would suit her just as well. 

That’s how they found themselves looking for a home somewhere with wide open spaces, where they could start a farm and a family. After a couple months spent browsing ads, they fell in love with a log house in the middle of nowhere in Colorado, surrounded by plains and mountains. 

Beca soon found out that winter was fucking  _ brutal _ up there, but she could live with that; the happiness radiating from her wife every single day was absolutely worth it. 

Six months after settling down in Colorado, she and Chloe started the procedure to start a family. They luckily got pregnant after their first try, Beca finding out on a cold winter morning in December. She slid back in bed with the biggest smile on her face and snuggled close to her wife. 

_ “Arduil vaer, Meleth,” _ Chloe rasped, smiling softly as her lids slid open. 

Beca understood much more Elvish now than she did in Middle Earth, though she rarely spoke it. 

“We’re having a baby,” she whispered into Chloe’s ear, eyes sparkling with joy as she backed away slightly in order to catch Chloe’s reaction. 

Chloe’s own eyes popped wide. “We are?” 

Biting on her bottom lip, Beca nodded. “Yeah. We’re going to be parents.” 

A sob burst past Chloe’s lips, which were pressed to Beca’s in the next beat, in a kiss that made her heart swell with happiness. Chloe slithered down, and Beca was about to ask her what she was doing when she felt those same lips brushing a series of short kisses to her lower abdomen. 

_ “Emig le mele, winimo.”  _

_ Mommy loves you, little one.  _

Beca felt tears prick behind her eyes as her fingers lightly feathered through Chloe’s red curls. “We love you too, Mommy.” 

Beca never thought her pregnancy would be so smooth. No sickness, a higher sex drive (Chloe never complained) and a new, unparalleled sense of happiness that seemed to grow the closer they got to meeting their baby. Chloe spoke or sang Elvish to her belly every night as they lay in bed, and tended to every single one of Beca’s desires during those nine months, making Beca fall even more in love with her-- if that was even possible. 

“It’s a girl!” 

Beca slumped back against the pillows, a watery, stunned laugh puffing past her lips as the newborn was laid upon her chest. “Oh my goodness. She’s  _ here _ , Chlo.” 

“You’re incredible, Meleth,” Chloe murmured against her temple, pressing a soft kiss on her skin, then one to their daughter’s forehead.  _ “Hiya, yelya.”  _

The baby’s cries quietened down as soon as Chloe spoke Elvish, seemingly recognizing her voice. 

“She’s so beautiful,” Beca croaked out moments later, once their baby girl was brought back all cleaned, measured and weighed, swaddled in a blanket with a small hat atop her head. Beca cradled her in the crook of her elbow, unable to tear her eyes away from their small wonder. Everything  _ hurt _ , but she didn’t care. “What do you think, love? Does she look like an Eleanor?” 

“Yes, absolutely,” Chloe replied without a beat of hesitation, her own eyes sparkling. “ _ Mae g'ovannen _ , Eleanor.” 

Not that Beca was surprised, but witnessing how wonderful Chloe was with their daughter made her heart triple in size. Eleanor wasn’t an easy baby; she woke up several times at night and would only settle back down if Chloe sang her an Elvish lullaby. 

Sometimes it was even difficult to get her to go to sleep in the evening. 

Around the fifth month and as summer settled in in Colorado, Chloe and Beca found out that nothing --  _ nothing --  _ soothed their baby more than the gentle rock of a walking horse. On those rough evenings, Chloe would take Ellie on her trusty Gwaedal -- the baby secured against her chest in her baby sling -- for a ride around their property until she conked out. 

Time was zooming past way too fast for Beca’s liking, as Ellie rolled over for the first time, crawled, and eventually took her first steps and said her first words. 

Ellie’s favorite thing as soon as she could walk was of course giving hay to the horses, making back and forth trips between the wheelbarrow and the fence with a handful at a time. She was definitely an outdoor toddler, who liked to spend her days outside no matter the weather. 

(which led to tantrums if it was too cold or rainy for her to go outside.)

“Ellie, stay close to me,” Beca instructed when her daughter started wandering off. She tended to go off on her own short adventures around the ranch whenever her moms weren’t looking. “Wanna help me catch Gwaedal?” 

Chloe’s faithful steed was recovering from a small injury that required daily attendance to, so Beca and Eleanor took care of that while Chloe was at work. 

“I do it!” The two-year-old waddled over, her movements strained because of her puffy blue snowsuit. 

Gwaedal was always extra gentle with their little one. He lowered his head as Ellie approached, blowing warm air in her face as he breathed through his nostrils and drawing a giggle from Ellie. She reached out to scratch his nuzzle.  _ “Aiya, Gwaedal.”  _

With Beca’s help, they fastened the headcollar and Ellie insisted on leading the horse to the barn herself. Gwaedal walked extra slowly to match Eleanor’s small steps, Beca sticking beside them just in case. 

“Good job, baby,” Beca praised as they made it inside the barn. She handed Ellie a brush and set a mounting block down so she could climb on it. 

“Bwaids, mommy,” Ellie suggested once she was done brushing her side of the animal. 

“You wanna braid his mane?” 

Eleanor nodded, and together they worked on that for the next half-hour, before feeding him his grain and putting him back in his field. Ellie excitedly unfurled her day through broken sentences to Chloe as soon as she stepped through the door later that evening, Chloe listening intently with a proud grin stretched across her features.

“Hello, Meleth,” Chloe murmured as she slid behind Beca while Beca stood at the stove, wounding her arms around her waist. “Smells delicious.” 

Beca leaned back against her wife, smiling softly. “Me, or the food?” 

“Both,” Chloe said with a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to Beca’s neck. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Me too,” Beca sighed; after fourteen years together, their soulmate bond was still as strong, and her body craved Chloe’s proximity just as much. After turning down the heat under the sauce, Beca turned in Chloe’s arms, looping hers around her neck. “Let’s go for a R-I-D-E tomorrow? Ellie’s been asking, and it’s supposed to be sunny and somewhat warmer.” 

Ellie usually rode in front of one of them, but they would soon need to purchase a buddy saddle, and probably her own pony in the future. 

Chloe smiled. “Sounds wonderful.” 

_ -fin- _


End file.
